


Soulmates

by teamemmykinney



Series: soulmates [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Beth Greene/Daryl Dixon - Freeform, Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene - Freeform, F/M, Slow Burn, Soulmates AU, beth greene x daryl dixon, bethyl, daryl/beth - Freeform, i hated what i did and it gave me writers block and i've been meaning to change it forever!!!!!!!!, remix to my other story soulmates, the walking dead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-22 02:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13754844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamemmykinney/pseuds/teamemmykinney
Summary: Scar soulmate AU: Since the day Elizabeth Greene was born, she had puckered pink and white lashes splayed across her back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Soulmates](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8690521) by [teamemmykinney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamemmykinney/pseuds/teamemmykinney). 



> To understand the plot of this story, please, please check out my (one) other story on my account and read the first four chapters of "Soulmates." At the end of chapter four, without spoiling anything, I decided I wanted to make a change due to writer's block / being displeased with how I took the story. I hope you all enjoy, and I hope to be back and posting weekly or bi-weekly again. lots of love, teamemmykinney xxxx

Since the day Elizabeth Greene was born, she had puckered pink and white lashes splayed across her back. In fact, for the entirety of her twenty years of life, her body was a canvas of deep purple bruises and other particular cuts and breaks. When the soul marks appeared on Beth's body, usually every day a new one, a tingling warmth would pour out over her skin, indicating that her soulmate had just taken another injury.

Momma used to tell Beth, "Let's hope your prince charming has good health insurance. For his sake and ours," she'd tease in a soft voice, trying to relieve Beth's tension when a particularly awful mark showed up. "If he's a proper gentleman, he'll offer to pay off all these hospital visits."

Beth would just give her mother a small, sad smile. The constant soul markings that showed up on Beth's body worried her to no end. Not knowing where, how, or why her soulmate was getting hurt so often, so vigorously, kept her awake at night in bewilderment. Every night, she prayed for the stranger that branded her body. She'd wrap her arm around herself, tracing the scar tissue of her soulmates old wound gently.

Her parents and siblings were always trying to reassure Beth when she'd get a soul mark. They'd laugh and tease, taking guesses at what he did for a living, always coming up with answers like professional fighter of some sort, or a soldier serving his country.

But she knew better. She knew exactly what they said about her constant markings, what they thought it really meant. That her soulmate, whoever they were out in the world, was either the kind of man a young woman like Beth shouldn't associate herself with, or a man who was in trouble. Her daddy and older brother Shawn had a tendency to lean towards the former.

The kids at school talked, too. The first few times Beth had awoke in the middle of the night to a pair of fresh black eyes and a bloody nose, she stayed home from school for a week until her eyes could be concealed with makeup. But, she could only miss school so many times, and well.. Her soulmate seemed to get hit in the face quite a bit more than anticipated. And kids talked, asking her all sorts of bizarre questions about someone and she never knew the answers.

In grade school, her constant battered appearance scared the other kids away, but as they got older and had their own soul markings, they understood and saw past it. But by high school, when the boys started coming' 'round Beth like a bear to honey, the boys started to get pushy.

"Beth, why are you gonna wait around for some pussy who can't even protect himself?" Was the usual jist of their attempts to get her to go out with them. "Why wait around forever that when I can just take you out tonight instead?"

Beth, being raised to always be kind to others, would politely decline, choosing to ignore the crude words that always followed. Prude. Cock tease. Lesbo. Virgin Mary. After going four years of high school without dating anybody, in a small town in Georgia, people finally caught on that she had already taken.

Traditionally, in most cultures, letting others see your soul markings meant that you were committing yourself to your soulmate, whether or not they were directly in your life. Beth, obviously, was the latter. They said that a soul bond tied two people together, fate inventably drawing them into each others lives.

Beth had been raised on promises of one day meeting her prince charming, her true love. Of a fairy tail wedding, right here on her family's farm. Hopeless romantics. And for a long time, Beth believed that could be her future, if she just waited long enough.

By the time she had turned twenty, she was starting to resent her never ending soul marks. Resent her soulmate, even. She wanted something to happen already. She wanted the worrying, the wondering, hopefully the broken bones and scars to stop being so frequent. She started to second guess just how strictly she should be following tradition. She was only human and she intimacy and affection. She started to think, y'know, what if her soul mate wasn't as committed as she had been? It seemed like everyone, heck, even momma and daddy, went on dates and went steady before finding their soulmate. It took her parents forty-five years to find each other—how long would Beth be waiting?

Beth figured after a while that it wouldn't hurt to go out on a date. That's when she started seeing a boy named Jimmy, a boy from her graduating class that went to the same church as her, a real southern gentleman. He spoke sweetly to her, taking her out on dates, going as slow as she wanted, knowing she had never done any type of dating before.

It was mostly innocent--hand holding, cuddling, soft shy kisses, that's all. Only a few times did they explore Beth's sexual awakening. When she kissed Jimmy, and let him touch her, she'd start to realize on what she had been missing for so long.

The first time he had slipped his hand slowly up her dress and to her underwear, a soul mark began burning in her eyes and her nose began to bleed. She cursed loudly, frustrated, cursing her soulmate, wishing for just a moment that for the first time that her soul marks would just stop for a while.

But then the going out on dates every Friday, breakfast at the mom and pop diner on Sunday mornings after church, all that had to stop once the flu epidemic started. Once people started getting deathly ill, Hershel forbad his three children from going out unless it was absolutely necessary until the flu blew over—so Jimmy started coming over the Greene's farm most days of the week.

Even though Daddy kept telling Beth that everything was fine, ignoring the news, promising that they'd be fine—the illness took her mother away, not even two weeks after the news stations said the sickness was invading Georgia. And then it took Jimmy's family, too, and Hershel brought him in.

The first two weeks were rough, with her momma passing and Jimmy following her around like a lost puppy. She kept herself busy, trying to keep the normal domestic routine. Her horse, Nelly, had gotten an awful lot of attention. When Beth was with Nelly, no one came around to bother her. She'd sit in the barn and trace over a soul mark that wasn't a temporary bruise, like the white scar on the inside of her thumb. It was only then that she realized she hadn't gotten a single soul mark in two days.

Two days turned into two weeks. Beth feverishly checked herself throughout the day, quietly excusing herself to go into the bathroom and inspect her body for some bruise, somethin', anythin'. She didn't know what she was going to do with herself if she lost the one thing the universe promised her.

After two weeks and four days without any soul marks, she felt a sharp familiar heat under her left collar bone. She let out the sweetest breath of relief, tugging her shirt collar down to look at the mark, but there wasn't anything appearing.

She went into the bathroom and took off her t-shirt, inspecting herself in the mirror. Several minutes went by before she saw it. She saw it happening! Slowly, a small black "X" was being tattooed- very slowly- onto her soulmate. She watched as a thin black line became thicker and thicker, then watch the other line crossing through it in amazement. She bit her lip, smiling, feeling sickenly sweet with hope.

 

__________________________________

 

Daryl Dixon had always been covered in scars and he knew they were always just his scars.

 

Everyone he knew growin' up already had gotten their precious little 'markings.' He heard the stories. How they felt when they were branded onto your skin, the warmth that spreads as you share an identical mark, temporary or for as long as you live, appears out of thin air. Feelin' some connection deeper than yourself. Yeah, he heard all about it.

  

His old man and his mom definitely weren't soul mates, because Daryl's dad beat the hell outta his mom when he was real little, she'd be covered in welts, bruises. That was before Merle was big enough to fight back and step in, but then mom died, Merle left, and all the old sonuvabitch had left was Daryl to knock from room to room on his binges.

It was just his luck he didn't have any typ'a soulmate. He figures, better off that way, he didn't want that, that ain't what he was gonna be doin' with his life. So when he was sixteen and Merle came back around after being in the army, Daryl took what he could carry and left his old man and never looked back.

Merle somehow got Daryl to do the stupidest shit. Merle was the only family Daryl ever had, only one to ever give a damn. Daryl wanted to prove to Merle that he could do whatever Merle could, no questions asked. Everything was a contest competition with Merle to prove himself worthy of holding the Dixon name.

It wasn't until he was he wasn't until he was eighteen years old that Daryl got his first mark. Two years on the road with Merle, spitting and swearin' every time he received a soul mark about what a fucking mistake it was to have already found her.

(He found her, all right, but street drugs found Merle's soulmate first. In her eyes, her first and only soulmate was what she could shoot up her arm. Daryl knew Merle well enough that he blamed himself for not findin' her in time before she was too far gone to come back. And now, let's remember, this is Merle Dixon we're talkin' about. Nobody loves a good high better than him. But it's all in moderation with recreation. So if Merle said she was too far gone, Daryl had no doubt in his mind she needed some real help.)

It was a a mediocre gash on the side of his head, above his ear. Daryl hissed in shock, his hand shooting up to touch the fresh wound, his breathing getting heavy as his head rushed with a sort of buzz. He was so overwhelmed by the feeling, the tugging on his heart, the disbelief that all that silly sappy cliché shit was true, that he didn't even attempt to stop his eyes from rolling to the top of his head and passing out on the floor at the pool hall the brothers were hustling at.

 

Merle gave him shit about it for weeks, callin' him a little bitch, askin' him if he was gonna go run off into the sunset with his one true love. Daryl would tell him to fuck off, and the next time he got a soul mark, he kept a stone cold face. It was never anything serious, or nothing Daryl hadn't had to deal with himself, but a deep down part of him anticipated the days on days of waiting to feel a bruise on his shin or a paper cut. He wasn't too happy when his soulmate fractured her foot, therefore his foot, because he spent a lot of time runnin' away from people.

Following Merle around for almost twenty years was not what Daryl imagined when he left his old man's at sixteen. Merle didn't really have friends. He had people who tolerated him, and people who wanted to beat the shit out of him. And Merle Dixon will never turn down a challenge.

Most nights turn into drunken bar fights, Merle throwing the first punch and Daryl right behind to back his big brother up. Daryl wasn't as big as Merle, but he had a decent amount of strength, and he could take a pretty hard beating. His trick in fights, especially drunk fights, was to let the other guy tire themselves out while whaling on Daryl, and once they're winded, Daryl'd take'm down and they'd be on their way no worse for wear. It didn't occur for a very long time that his soulmate probably looked like a rag doll because of him.

It turned out, though, once Merle was gone, Daryl stopped (physically) fighting most men he met. At the very least, the men he was staying with after the dead started walkin'.

The last thing he expected to happen was to find his soulmate after nearly getting his head blown off.

_______________________________

Beth's daddy had warned her to stay away from the group of strangers who had come to stay with them as of late. A little boy, named Carl, was accidently shot by her daddy's friend Otis. Hershel was able to save him, and they ended up having many more mouths to feed.

Beth hadn't realized how much she missed other people until she spoke with the other woman and the younger man, Glenn. She felt a little shy around the sheriff, Carl's father, named Rick Grimes, and uncomfortable by the hostility another man (who also turned out to be a cop) Shane.

Jimmy was already acting too big for his britches once the group arrived. Suddenly, he was in.. Well, Beth could honestly only think of it as a 'pissing contest' between Jimmy and the men of Rick's group, expect Jimmy was the only one participating. She was sitting with him in the kitchen, pouring each of them a glass of lemonade.

"That redneck is a jackass." Jimmy told Beth. "Believes in Chupacabra and when I said I need a gone if I'm gonna protect you and our family, he said somethin' like 'People in hell want slurpee's'."

Beth rolled her eyes at Jimmy, shaking her head slightly as her father walked in.

"Hershel! Mr. Greene, I-I-" Jimmy stuttered, standing up. "One of Rick's men took one of the horses. To look for the little girl."

Hershel was still in the doorway, face heavy with disappointment. "Bethy, come with me to the stables, let see who's missing." He suggested with a sigh.

Beth stood up quicker than she meant to, but she wouldn't mind stepping away from Jimmy when he's calling their guests jackasses. She hadn't spoken to Mr. Dixon more than a murmur of hello in passing, only earning a grunt in response from him. As much as she'd like to get to know all the people from Atlanta, she didn't want to put anyone in the corner for conversation.

Beth and Hershel made their way to the stables, checking for each horse. By the look of the open gate on Nelly's stable in the back of the, Mr. Dixon had taken her horse, and not only was it her horse, but Nelly was.. Nervous. Nervous Nelly. Beth never took her into the forest, she was spooked so easily, even by a squirrel. The Greene's owned plenty of acres for Beth to ride Nelly without either of them having a bad time.

"Bethy, will you go find Rick and tell him I'd like to speak to him for a moment?" Hershel said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She nodded, walking across the yard towards the makeshift camp, finding Mr. Grimes and his wife Lori.

"Mr. Grimes? My dad wants to talk to you." Beth spoke up, hoping the conversation she was interrupting wasn't too important. She knew her daddy was upset and didn't want the guests to overstay their welcome, but Beth couldn't help but want them to stay a little bit longer.

Lori sighed and turned towards Beth, pursing her lips, deep in thought. "Is everything okay?"

"I-I was gonna ask you the same thing," Beth admitted. "Mr. Dixon just took one of our horses without my dad's A-okay and he just wants to talk about.. Boundaries, I guess."

Lori let out a huff this time. "'Course he did. Beth, I'm gonna let you in on a secret. Men? They have thick skulls. Once they get an idea, it's hard to convince them otherwise, and vice versa.

Now, some men, they would'a given up on looking for Sophia out in those woods. Bein' a little girl lost in the woods isn't a good thing even when everything was right in the world. But Daryl—Mr. Dixon—he seems to be the only one that-" She trailed off at the end, looking away and running her hand through her face. "Daryl's gotta thick skull, I knew that right when I met him. But he is doin' more than any of us to find Sophia. I'm sorry Daryl took your horse without askin'. He won't apologize for it 'cause I don't think he's sorry for doing whatever it takes to... find her."

"I wish there was somethin' I could do to help. You guys seem like you're ready for anythin'. May I can ask Dad-" Beth stopped, taking a deep breath in as she felt a soul mark burning its way onto her forehead. A shiver went down her spine as she brought her hand to her new mark, a bit of blood from a small gash.

"Beth, are you okay?" Lori asked, stepping forward and placing a hand on her forehead. "Let me check that out. I know it probably doesn't hurt one bit.."

"Daddy'll stitch me up, this happens a lot." Beth confessed, her eyes lazily shut as she let herself feel the soul marks warmth make her chest feel light. "My... He... I don't know, but I think he likes to carve me up."

Lori chuckled, shaking her head at the young blonde. "I definitely know a mark when I see one. That's what you get when your soulmate is a cop."

Beth opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly her vision went black and she was doubled over. Another mark was slowly pushing it's way through the side of her abdomen. It didn't hurt, but it felt just as intense as the new cut on her forehead. Her ears rang and her cheeks flushed red. "Oh my god," she managed, her voice gasped. The only thing she could compare how her body felt was the feeling she got when she smoked weed a couple of times in high school. Her body felt fuzzy and warm and alert.

"Beth, oh my god, that is- that is a lot of blood, c'mon honey, let's get your dad," Lori ushered quickly, wrapping an arm around Beth, who stood up straight and blinked several times, moving with Lori.

"It's never felt this- it's like-" Beth tried to explain, looking down at her now blood soaked pink blouse. "I don't know. It's never felt so strong before. I think it- I felt the mark inside of me- do you, do you think he got shot-?" Beth asked, frightful of how easy it is to get shot these days, especially right after what happened to Carl.

"Jimmy? I don't know what on earth he is doin' to be givin' you these marks," Lori admitted as they were withinout shouting distance of Mr. Grimes and Hershel. "Hershel! Hershel, Beth is bleeding from a soul mark in her abdomen."

"Jimmy? No- no, I haven't met him yet. Jimmy's just a guy I was datin'-" Beth started to explain to her new friend, but Rick and Hershel were quick to get Beth inside and onto the same bed that Carl had laid on only days before. Lori stood next to Beth, holding her hand and smoothing her hair out of her face.

"What has that boy done this time?" Hershel asked hypothetically, examining Beth's bleeding side. "Bethy, all I can do is keep it disinfected and cover it with gauze." Next he looked at her forehead. "Clean your head too, put a butterfly bandage on it so you don't have to stitch yourself up." He reached behind himself to the nightstand, which had a typical amount of first aid equipment since this room seemed to become a hospital bed once Carl was shot.

Beth nodded, blinking slowly. She had lost a lot of blood quickly and felt dizzy as can be. She felt her father cleaning her wound, Lori staying with her, holding her hand, stroking her hair. Rick shuffled uncomfortably, unsure of what to say or do.

"Where's Jimmy?" Rick asked in a serious tone and Hershel let out a barking laugh.

"These markings are not from Jimmy, as much as he wishes they were." Hershel said. "Bethy, are you in any pain?"

"Yeah, well, no, I just—um! Mr. Grimes, will you please get me a glass of lemonade?" Beth said quickly, letting the uncomfortable looking man duck out of the room. She was embarassed to talk about her soulmate in front of Mr. Grimes. "Daddy, it was different. It was so strong. Took my breath away. Do you think he's okay? Can someone," Beth sighed, shutting her eyes. "If he's all alone out there, or without knowin' how to clean it, is he gonna live?"

_____________________

Daryl had one helluva day. He got knocked off a horse, fell down the side of steep mudslide, and landed on one of his arrows. Right through the goddamn side, just missing his ribs, he figured. But he managed to find Sophia's doll that she always carried with her. That means she was there, that she's out there.

He stumbled into the farms property, breathing heavily. His head hung low, he peaked at his group as they rushed at him with weapons.

Daryl stopped, breathing heavy, as once again, Rick Grimes heald his Colt Python in his face.

"Is that Daryl?" Glenn asked, dumbfounded.

"That's the third time you pointed that thing at my head!" Daryl exclaimed at Rick. "You gonna pull the trigger or what?"

Rick lowered his gun, only to have a gunshot go off in the distance and shoot Daryl in the head, who immediately slumped to the ground.

"No!" Rick screamed, looking back at Andrea, who was holding one of their snipers on top of the RV. "No, no, no!"

From the front porch, Lori the Greene family, minus Beth, ran towards everyone.

"What on Earth's goin' on out here?!" Hershel hollared as Rick and Shane started to pull Daryl to his feet.

His hand reached up and gingerly touched the part of his temple that was hit by the bullet. "I was kidding," Daryl explained, sounding pissed before he went unconscious.

______________________________

Beth sat immobilized in the bedroom as everyone was outside. There had been a gunshot and lots of screaming, but Beth couldn't think, because before she could even react to go see what the commotion was, a third soul mark seared on her left temple.

She felt euphoric. For almost every soul mark she has gotten, she's always wished for a moment she could stay feeling that euphoria forever, feeling secure with herself and her place in the universe and the tie to her soulmate. In this moment, right now, she knows that he's out there, somewhere, and at the very least, alive in that moment.

After a few deep breaths, she was able to get out of her post-mark daze and carefully approach the window. It was—was that Mr. Dixon? She tried to leave the bedroom, but her father quickly moved in.

"Beth, Daryl's was shot at by a bullet and it scraped a bit of scalp off his temple. Will you clean the wound and sew it while I work on his stomach?" Hershel asked, but it wasn't really a question, so she sat out of the way while Daryl was carried in and placed on the bed before going over to his... She looked down at him, assessing the damage done to his forehead before touching her own fresh mark, which no one had noticed yet, checking three times to see if her soul mark was on the left side like Mr. Dixon's.

"Oh," was all Beth could manage when she finally learned who her soulmate was.


	2. Chapter 2

Beth swallowed the lump in her throat as she turned back to the man laying on the bed in front of her. Less than a minute ago, the man in the bed was just Mr. Dixon from the Atlanta group. Now? Now she's the man she's loved and hated, the man she's been dreaming about at night, a faceless silhouette that has had to stand by her side.

She took a deep breath in and out before she poured the disinfectant onto linen strip and—she was using all her willpower for her hands not to shake, because in a moment, she was going to be stitching his scalp back on—and gently made the first dab at his grazed gunshot wound.

____________________

Daryl yanked his body up, suddenly full of adrenaline as he felt the warm familiar touch of receiving a soul mark, but it was much more than getting a soul mark, this shock engulfed his entire body. He felt like someone had electrocuted him, rewired his brain. He heaved deeply in and out, taking in as much air as he could to fill his lungs.

"Daryl-!" he heard Rick, but Hershel's outcry was louder.

"Beth! Someone take care of her head wound right now. Get Patricia out of bed if you have to. Do any of you know how to stitch besides Elizabeth?"

Daryl managed to squint at the blonde standing next to him, half her face lit from the lamp in the room, other half shadowed. One of her hands was extended towards him, near the side of his face where he had been shot. Her lips were pursed and she was staring at him intently, knowingly.

Her gaze was too intense after only a moment before he looked away.

"Daddy, I don't feel a thing. Let me- may I finish cleaning your wound, Mr. Dixon?" Beth Greene's voice was a thick hum over the tense room.

Then, all eyes were on Beth. She was backed against the wall, barely a foot and a half away from where Daryl was laying—(he hadn't even glanced at this Greene and now he was suddenly able to feel her in the room, feel how close she was to him)—holding some kind of rag in her hand. Her pink blouse was only two-thirds pink, the other third being a dark damp red that was obviously blood. Her face had lost all it's color, her blue eyes wide, starin' at him as if she seein' light for the first time. She had a cut on her forehead and on her left temple, an open wound with blood slowly trickling down her cheek.

Daryl's breathing was still heavy, and he let out a grunt to respond after he realized he may have been silent too long. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her hand inch close to his face and gently dab his forehead. Daryl, overwhelmed by the burning of the disinfectant and the awareness of how goddamn close she was to him.

"Good to go," She murmured finally. Hershel had moved close to the two while she cleaned his forehead, examining his daughter and cleaning her up at the same time.

"Bethy, go to Patricia, have her fix you up." Hershel said in a quiet, solemn voice. Daryl's face flushed as he felt her walk out of the room, the warmth of her closeness that had been controlling his mind dwindled, but he still wasn't able to make eye contact with anyone yet. He needed a moment to process what had just happened.

"We're going to have to clean your abdomen, too, son." Was all Hershel said while he stitched Daryl's forehead.

"Daryl," Rick said, clearing his throat. "We saw you found Sophia's doll."

"Yeah," Daryl nodded. "I found it washed up on the creek bed right there. Must of dropped it crossing there somewhere."

"Cuts the grid almost in half," Rick commented, looking back at Shane, who sat in a chair in the corner. Shane's head was resting on his hand, leaning against the chair, giving Daryl a puzzled glance before looking at his old partner.

"Yeah, you're welcome," Daryl snipped. On this hole journey for the little girl, he had been the only one, and not one had Shane even looked at him like that. Like he was concerned for once.

Rick simply nodded at Daryl's lash. "How's he looking?"

"I had no idea we'd be going through the antibiotics so quickly, between Bethy and Daryl." Hershel said as he closed up Daryl's arrow wound. The room was tense again at the mention of Hershel's daughter.

"I ain't got nothin' to do with that." Daryl barked, feeling his face grow hot. Hershel almost snorted next to him.

"Like hell you don't, son." Hershel said.

"I was out there all day lookin' for a little girl! And I ain't your son."

"No need to get so worked up, Daryl, it's just a figure of speech. Speaking of, any idea what happened to my horse?"

_____________________

"Dear lord, Beth, what has he done now?" Patricia asked at the sight of Beth, shaking her head.

"Gettin' shot in our front yard, apparently." Maggie muttered, causing the younger Greene to give Maggie a look.

Patricia stopped what she was doing as she cleaned Beth's head. "What's she talking about? She's not- no."

Beth smiled weakly as her aunt's eye's widened. "I didn't mean it like that, Bethy, I just- we never expected,"

"It's okay. I.. Didn't expect it either."

_____________________

Beth pushed through the door an inch, bed tray of food in her hands. The lights were low as Daryl pulled the covers of the bed over himself.

"Figured you could use a hot meal after today." Beth said, bringing it over to him. His eyes were low and he quietly accepted it, grunting at her. She tried to hide her smile at the familiar sound. "How are you feeling?

"'Bout as good as I look." He responded, focusing intently on the food. Beth was silent, unsure how to respond, reaching her hand up to the tattoo on her shoulder subconsciously. When she realized she was about to trace it, she sat on the end of the bed.

"What's the 'X' stand for?" She asked, pointing at the tattoo he had recently given himself on his collar bone.

Daryl looked up at her now, furrowing his eyebrows. "How'd you know?"

Beth reached the collar of her shirt, tugging it down gently to show her matching one. Daryl huffed.

"You got that?" Beth nodded. Daryl looked away again.

"I've got a.. lot. Of everythin'. Born with some." She told him, adjusting her shirt back comfortably.

When all Daryl did was grunt in response, not looking at her, she stood up and made her way out the door.

"Goodnight, Daryl."

_____________________

Daryl did his best to avoid Beth after that. After everything he felt when she was around. Hell, he could feel her even when she was all the way in the house and we was out in their makeshift camp out front.

This was the last thing he needed right now. He had things he had to do. He had to find that little girl.

And then, all at once, commotion happened, and he watched that little girl stumble out of the barn last of all. All the walkers Hershel had been keeping in the barn.

He watched his soulmate cry over her undead mother and chose to comfort Carol.

He heard about her collapse, her shock. He felt it in himself but was able to keep going unlike her.

It wasn't until the soul mark on his wrist, a cut across a wrist, that he went runnin' into the Greene house as fast as he can.

___________________________

"She's in there, I heard glass." Maggie said, pounding on the door as Daryl followed into Beth's room behind Lori.

"Beth!" Daryl barked, pushing through.

"Beth, honey, please, dont' do this, I'm not mad-" Maggie pleaded over and over, but Daryl wasn't waiting. He busted down the door, seeing his soulmate crying, blood running down her arm, same as his.

"I'm sorry," She cried, hand over her wrist.

Daryl moved quickly, grabbing the first thing he saw, ironically a nicely hung towel, and wrapped it around her wrist. "Hold it up, up over your head. Yeah, just like that, girl."

Beth fell into him, sobbing in his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her, giving her a squeeze, wanting nothing more than to help this girl he barely knew.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry--," She kept saying, and he just shushed her, ushering her over to the bed.

"Hershel. We need Hershel." Lori said, running out the door.

"Bethy, Bethy, it's gonna be alright," Maggie said, rubbing Beth's back as she cried and shook in Daryl's arms.

"This ain't anythin' worse than what you had to get from havin' me, sure your paw can patch this right up easy." Daryl told her quietly. She sniffled looking up at him, the faintest smile on her face for a moment, before tears poured again.

___________________________

Daryl had stayed with her for a little while that night, while Hershel patched her up, Hershel speaking softly to Beth. While he was stichting her left wrist, her right hand was held by his calloused one, letting her squeeze.

"It's different gettin' stitched when I'm the one in pain," she muttered to the men.

He didn't understand this familiarity that he had with her. He knew why, he wasn't an idiot, he realized she was his soulmate. He just didn't know how he, Daryl Dixon, was so easily able to comfort a young woman without feeling too awkward or uncomfortable. It just seemed like.. Muscle memory with her, like it was how it had always been, now that he could look at her.

His whole body felt alive when he was with her, in a way he'd heard the stories when he was younger. Everything was different. He was always hypervigilant, he had to be to know the signs to track and hunt for his whole life. But this was unfamiliar territory. Suddenly he could read her so easily, and that said a lot to Daryl, who was never sure, especially with woman, what the hell they meant when they spoke.

Hershel cleaned Daryls soul mark up in no time at all, giving his daughter a look before standing up.

"I don't mind you staying and keeping Bethy company for a bit, but the door stays open. You here me, son?"

Daryl resisted the urge to bark at him, biting his tongue and nodding. "Your house, door stays open. Ain't nothin' to worry about."

Hershel smiled sadly, kissing his daughter on the forehead before leaving.

Now it was just Daryl in Beth on her bed. She was laying back and he was sitting up and the foot, just like the other night when she had brought him dinner, but reversed.

"Thank you.. For comin' up and opening the door. Dunno.. Dunno what I was thinkin', now. Dunno why I thought.. Everything just.. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. My momma.. Everything was just.." Beth was at a loss for words.

Daryl nodded, understanding. He felt the same way when he saw Sophia walking out of that barn. But she, this little Beth, never experienced the walkers like he had. The deaths that he had.

"The 'X' on my shoulder is for my brother. Merle." He told her. "Lost him back in Atlanta."

"Oh," Beth said quitely. "I'm so sorry.. I had no idea."

"Ain't somethin' I brag about." He paused, fiddling his fingers against each other. "Shoulda come sooner. Come check on ya. I knew what was happenin' and I stayed away."

"Daryl," Beth said, tone serious, pushing herself to sit up. "I don't even remember much of the past few days. I was in shock. 'Sides.. I don't think anyone coulda stopped me."

"I shoulda been there for you. That's what--," Daryl stopped himself. "I shoulda been there. Talked to ya. Don't know how this.. Whole thing works."

Beth managed a smile. "I don't either. What matters is you're here now."


	3. Chapter 3

"That redneck? Are you fu.. Are you serious, Bethy? Him?" Jimmy said, pacing back and forth the Greene kitchen.

Beth gingerly rubbed her face. "We both knew we weren't soulmates, Jimmy. Not with all my marks. It's not like I expected him to pop up out of the blue on my front yard, for Pete's sake."

"Are you just leaving me for him, then?" Jimmy blurted out, face red with embarrassment.

"Jimmy—no!" Beth said. "No, it's not like that with Mister—with Daryl. We don't even know each other. I just.. I think it's best if we cool things down. That's all." After the night before, sitting with each other in her bedroom after her attempt, she wasn't sure where she stood on whether to call him Mr. Dixon or Daryl.

"And now they got some kid, tied up in the barn, and you know what your man is doing to him?" Jimmy spat, pacing.

"Jimmy!" Beth exclaimed, never seeing him act this way.

"He's beating him for information. Who knows what that prick is capable of. I don't trust him, Beth. And after all he's put you through, you shouldn't either." Jimmy headed out of the door. "Just thought you should know your soulmate is a lowlife thug."

___________________________

Daryl rubbed his raw knuckles, alone at the camp. He had beaten that boy down pretty damn badly to get what they needed. His stomach was in knots, thinking about how old the kid was. He was just a kid.

But no one was safe anymore, not in this world, not with the men that Randall kid was describing. And no one else had the stomach to get the information out of the kid, so they all looked to Daryl, because, face it, they knew he'd do the dirty work.

"Daryl?" Her soft voice called across the way, causing Daryl to squint up. Daryl had already felt her coming the moment she stepped out the front door.

"Brought you some lemonade." She said, a glass in her hand and a bundle of a towel in the other. He grunted, taking it from her, looking down, somehow hoping she didn't know what he had done. But they all knew. Most of them wanted it done, but that didn't change Daryl's paranoia that he was still the bad guy in the situation.

"And.. Some ice. For your hands. Felt'm inside the house." She said, voice quieter this time. There was a long silence before Beth sat down, cross legged, holding the ice in her lap.

"If you're here to give me some sorta speech about what I did, I ain't about to here it." Daryl snarled. "So why don't you go be sweet on everyone else and give lemonade to someone who wants to talk." Dale had already tried to head-shrink Daryl earlier and all it did was piss him off more.

"Ain't here to talk about nothin'. Just wanna get away from everyone, same as you." Was all she said.

Daryl scoffed. "What, life isn't all you dreamed of on the prairie?"

To his surprised, she laughed. "Not since y'all showed up. Just tryna get acclimated to it still is all."

"Acclimated," Daryl repeated with a tiny chuckle. "Hell, that's one way to put it."

"Before.. The barn." Beth said slowly. "I shot a gun for the first time. Better late than never. Could use some work still, you know. In case anything happens."

"Pretty sure your paw is gonna kick us out soon anyway. You'll be back to keepin' them geeks in the barn." He muttered, taking a drink of the sweet lemonade.

What he said struck Beth and he bit his tongue back to apologize.

"I should get back inside. Daddy wants me on bed rest after yesterday. Just wanted to.. Say hi." She stood up and dusted off her pants with her free hand, ice still in the other. She placed it beside him.

"My hands still tingle. Maybe you'll feel like icin' 'em. Sooner rather than later, though." She lingered next to him, searching for words.

Part of Daryl wanted to bark at her to leave him be, that he didn't need any of this, not now. He looked up at her, her closeness burning into Daryl's body.

"You got somethin' to say?" He snapped. "Get back in and lay down."

Beth opened her mouth, shocked, but said nothing as she rushed back into the house.

___________________________

Daryl didn't know how to be around her.

Her. Beth.

Deep inside, crawling out, was this rawness that he had never felt before. A connection towards someone he had never had, the closest thing he could compare it to was havin' Merle. But that? That was dependency. This? This—he had no idea what this feeling was.

It wasn't like he was her boyfriend, they weren't goin' steady, they weren't anything but a couple of strangers who just happened to meet when the world ended. But as many times as he told himself that, he knew it wasn't true. They were tied by the fuckin' universe.

He felt like he could talk to her. But Daryl didn't know how to talk. Not just to pretty girls like her, but to anyone. His guard was too high.

He mostly wanted to avoid her as much as possible, but he'd be lyin' to himself again if he said he didn't like how he felt when she was sittin' with him outside with lemonade, offering ice for his busted hands. And that's what was worse.

He had just met his soulmate, and his first impressions weren't exactly the best. Why the hell did he even care if she knew he beat the holy living hell out of that kid? Everyone else did. He did what needed to be done. But whatever this shit was that was toying inside him didn't want her to see him as the monster he really was inside.

___________________________

 

When Dale died, they all gathered to pay their respects for the man that had always smiled kindly Beth's way.

But after that, everything seemed to happen too fast. Rick's group moved into the house. Randall got loose. Shane died. A horde of the undead attacked the farm and they had to flee.

Beth lost Patricia in her arms, escaping the burning remains of her farm, sobbing over watching her aunt die, pulled away into a truck with Lori and T-Dog.

As she cried in the back on her truck, she prayed silently that the fact she didn't have any soul marks- no bites, no scratches, no nothin' meant one of two things—that Daryl got out alive.

___________________________

Daryl looped around the farm a few times as he watched vehicles leaving, the horde taking over, the fire drawing them in, trying to catch a glimpse of who was in which car or who made it, finding Carol.

"Did you see Beth?" Daryl said as she climbed on his bike. "Beth, did you see her?"

"I don't—I don't know, she was with Lori and Patricia!" Daryl cursed under his breath, deserting the remains of Hershel's farm.

Luckily, Rick's group all had the same idea to meet back up where they left supplies for Sophia at the highway, and that's where he found her again, embracing Hershel.

Rick was speaking to him and he made a small crack about Glenn's driving, accidently grabbing Beth's attention. She took a step away from her father before lunging at Daryl, throwing her tiny body at his frame and embracing him tight.

"Oomph—damn, girl, I'm okay." He told gruffly, trying to mask his own relief and the electricity pumping through his veins at her touch. He patted her back, giving her a half-assed hug. "You alright?" He said quietly, and she just held him tighter, letting out a soft sigh.

___________________________

It was a long winter for all of them. Beth had never experienced anything like it before. Rick was in charge, doing the best he could. Beth picked up survival skills she never would've been able to think of on her own, and she thanked God every night for her new family.

That's what they became. A family. They looked out for one another. Took care of each other.

She very quickly lost of comfort of personal space, but honestly? She didn't want to be alone anymore. She needed everyone. She needed Maggie, Lori, Carol, to hold her when she cried over the traumatic loss of Patricia and losing Jimmy. She beat herself up for the first few months on how they ended things, and dreamt of walkers tearing him to shreds in the RV some nights.

Beth and Daryl didn't speak, but that wasn't to say they didn’t communicate. She'd catch him staring at her, or the other way around, and at first, both of them would quickly look away. But after a while, they kept each others gaze for a few moments. That overwhelming feeling of a soul mark that would burn through Beth's entire body when she was next to Daryl wasn't so overwhelming anymore, it was more like a warm hum that vibrated at all times, now, and she was used to it.

When they traveled and would be next to each other, he'd place his hand on her back so gently as he passed that it was a like a whisper, making her unsure if it even happened at all. It was such a quick gesture, the soft reminder to her that he was there, or passing her, was all Beth needed during those hard months.

But then they found a prison. A place they could call home.

___________________________

The first night at the prison, in the yard around the fire, Beth noticed Daryl not-so-sneakily leaving the group to find a spot to sit farther out near the prison.

After singing a song for Daddy and the group, she excused herself with a bowl of food and quitely found herself next to Daryl.

"You left before the squirrel was done." Beth said, lowering herself onto the ground next to him, feeling him radiate beside her.

"Didn't feel like be there for the campfire sing-a-long." He muttered, but took the tupperware bowl and scooped up the meat into his mouth.

Beth blushed at the comment, embarrassed, but didn't let it phase her retort. "You meanin' to tell me you weren't a boy scout?"

Daryl snorted, "Ain't nothin' in boy scouts I didn't learn out in the woods. Survival guide my ass."

Beth giggled. "I guess you're right. You know more about any woods than anyone else I ever known."

Daryl shrugged, continuing to eat. They sat in silence next to each other for a while.

Beth couldn't get over how comforting his closeness was. Even through all the hardships they had endured these past seven months, she felt like no matter what, they could handle it. Together.

Not just because of Daryl, but because of everyone else, too. Rick was a good leader, even if sometimes she questioned if they were making the right decisions; she knew in her heart that what he was doing was all in the best interest of them finding this, this prison, even though they hadn't known it at the time.

But having Daryl? It was a small reminder that good things were possible. What a miracle, she often thought, that she was to finally have him in her life. Even if it was just platonic between them; there was no rules or code to soulmates, she had realized. Those fairytales her momma told her when she was younger, they did come true for some people. But what she wasn't told was that sometimes your soulmate could just be a constant good in your life.

(She'd be kidding herself, though, if she hadn't wished for more. But it didn't take more than one conversation with Daryl Dixon to know that he was a closed off man, among other more crass things others word use to describe their first encounters with him. He had a lot of barriers, some that were naturally broken because of the fact they were soulmates, giving both of them a certain familiarity with each other that they've never had with anyone else—but that didn't make him any less of a guarded man. Beth, being hopelessly hopeful, told herself that if it was meant to be more than this, it would happen when it was time.)

"We haven't had a real chance to talk in a while," Beth commented after a long silence. Daryl stiffened next to her, wiping his hand on his pants.

"Ain't like we ever talked much to begin with."

"Never had the chance. All the runnin' we've done, we all had our jobs to focus on to survive. Not much time to shoot the shit, y'know." Beth defended, rolling her eyes at the last comment.

The swear sounded odd to her, not that she hadn't sworn before. Her momma and daddy raised her proper, she didn't swear around her 'elders.' But she still was a twenty (was she twenty-one now? Her birthday was in the middle of spring.) and she'd picked up her fair share of swears to add to her vocabulary, along with other things, after years of taunting from the boys in high school. (And, of course, her big brother Shaun, wasn't exactly a saint behind closed doors. Beth had always been closer to Shaun than to Maggie, just because of the closeness in age, but didn't really lessen her relationship with her sister.)

Beside her, Daryl choked on the bite of squirrel he was eating, coughed a few times and cleared his throat.

"Didn't know you were 'loud to cuss." Daryl said lightheartedly. In response, Beth gave him a playful nudge to his shoulder, muttering some sort of shut up that was barely heard by either of them. The smallest bit of contact sent Beth's body into tingles and warmth, and she knew Daryl was feeling the same, and they sat quietly until they were able to regain self-awareness.

"What I'm tryna say is," Beth finally said, mustering up all courage, peering at his face in the darkness. "Once we get settled, figure out how to make this place work, I don't see any reason we can't spend some time together."

Daryl wasn't able to keep her gaze for longer than a moment before looking away. "Guess not." He said gruffly.

Beth grinned, knowing that kind of response was the best she was going to get from him. It was basically Daryl's way of saying he was fine with them talking.


	4. Chapter 4

The group was able to clear a cell block with the expense of Hershel. He was bitten and Rick had to amputate, and he was unconscious.

Beth, trying to stay positive and look forward, started hemming her daddy's pants to accommodate the lost leg.

Daryl, on the other hand, was busy with Rick exploring the cafeteria, where they encountered some inmates who had been locked in since the beginning of the end. They managed to get a good supply of food to bring back.

After a series of events by the ring leader, they tripped the prisons alarm system and the tombs and courtyard were flooded by walkers.

They lost Carol, T-Dog, and Lori, but introduced Lori's child into the world. Rick.. Well, Rick went off on his own, and Beth took to taking care of the infant with Carl.

___________________________

After Daryl dug Carol's grave, he sat up in his perch, stabbing the wall with his knife. He looked down, watching the group, watching Hershel sit at one of the tables with his daughters while Carl held his little sister- Lil' Ass Kicker, when he caught Beth's gaze.

He sighed, putting the knife down and letting her climb the stairs and approach him.

"Daryl.. Why don't you come on down and hold the baby? She likes you." Beth suggested, standing in the doorway.

"Naw. Fine right here. Don't need no company."

"I miss her already, too." Beth said, regarding Carol. Daryl huffed angrily.

"I don't need no goddamn sympathy from ya, either!"

"Daryl—," Beth said, obviously trying to calm him from the scene she knew he was about to start.

"Naw, let's set the record straight right now. I don't need this. Any of it! All we got are scars. That's that. Ain't gonna pussyfoot around and be pretendin' it's anythin' more than that. Now, do yourself a favor and leave me the hell alone before I gotta throw you out." Daryl spat.

As soon as he said the words, regret flooded his body, but he wasn't about to take it back. He just lost his best friend, the closest person to him besides Rick, or, well, Beth. But he didn't know how to deal with her.

Daryl was up in that perch, thinkin' about how easily it coulda been Beth. And that scared him shitless. The best thing for him to do now? Distance himself as much as he could. Cut her out.

They weren't anything, even. They never even talked. Whatever they had between them, whatever loose ends they had that she seemed to want to move forward with and figure it out (and he wouldn't admit now that he wanted to play it out, too, but hell, a guy like him would never know how) should be the least of his concerns. Livin', protecting his people, doing what needed to be done, that's what mattered. Not some goddamn romance novel.

___________________________

Judith. The little girls name was Judith, and Beth eagerly accepted the role as her fill in nanny. It helped keep her mind off all the horrors that had happened. But the others kept in good spirit.

Maggie and Glenn had gone on a run for formula and never returned, a woman with a sword baby formula with news about what happened to the two.

Carol was found in the tombs, alive, dehydrated, but alive.

Reuniting Carol with the group was the first time Daryl and Beth were within ten feet of each other since he sent her off. She avoided eye contact, but unable to shake his aura that engulfed her. Felt him glancing at her from the corner of his eye as she kissed Carol's cheek and sat down on the bed with her. Felt his aching.

But she couldn't look at him, now that he had come to his senses. She knew, when he snapped, that he was mourning. That he couldn't handle losing Carol. That he was scared of how easy it was to lose people.

(But then Carol was alive after all. He went searching for her himself, leaving Beth on edge with worry, waiting cautiously for a soul mark, while her daddy sat and shared stories of calming prayers next to her, like he always had before when she had received a partially nasty soul mark before the outbreak, before she knew Daryl and what he really was getting himself into.)

And then they were going on a rescue mission for Glenn and Maggie at some town run by a man called the Governor.

"This is Maggie and Glenn. Why are we even debatin'?" Beth demanded during the group meeting on if they should go on the scouting mission, looking around.

"We ain't. I'll go after them." Daryl said immediately, glancing her way. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"This place.. Sounds heavily protected, you can't go alone." Rick said.

"I'll go." Beth said immediately, causing all eyes on her. She felt Daryl's piercing stare and Rick shifted, looking at his brother with understanding.

The two remaining inmates offered to go get there people back and Beth tried not to panic, thinking of what was to come.

"Beth, you stay here with Judith. Keep and eye on Carol." Rick said, stepping forward and resting his hand on her shoulder to give a comforting squeeze. "We'll take care of this. I know you can take care of them."

"We'll get'm back home." Daryl said, turning around and heading out of the cell block.

The familiar feeling of relief flooded Beth, knowing that Daryl would be there to get them, along with the usual worry of what could happen. Especially when the samurai woman said they had almost eighty people in the town. So many things could go wrong.

___________________________

As Daryl packed one of the SUV's up with supplies for their mission, Rick approached him.

"Daryl, can I have a moment?" Rick asked as he loaded a bag into the trunk before turning to face his friend.

"Anything weighing on your mind?" Rick said carefully, knowing he was walking on eggshells.

"Don't know what you mean." Daryl muttered. "Got some flash bangs, grenades. Dunno what we might need."

"I meant what happened in the cell block when Beth offered to go. Granted, I was going to ask her to watch after Judith anyway, but it looked like—"

Daryl paused, sighing and looking Rick in the eye. "If you already know, don't see why we're beatin' 'round the bush." He lowered his voice to a mutter.

"I get it, Daryl. I do. We both know Beth can take care of herself when it comes down to it. But these are real, armed soldiers. If it were Lori? This might be a suicide mission." Rick said quietly. "I know what you're doin', brother. I just think you might want to talk to her before we head out. She'll understand. Women.. They're smart like that."

___________________________

Beth opened the gate while the woman who weld the sword, Michonne, followed her, dumbfounded how this small group had cleared the prison by themselves. Beth smiled sadly, explaining that there were others.

"That trigger happy redneck. He's yours?" Michonne asked, but it was a statement. Beth sighed and didn't answer. "I ask because he's headed this way."

Beth turned her head, and she was right, Daryl was making his way over to the two. Michonne gave Beth an all-too-well knowing look before going towards the loaded cars.

"Daryl," Beth sputtered immediately, stepping closer to him while still leaving arms reach between them.

"Want ya to know we're gonna bring'em back. Safe'n sound." Daryl said with a thick voice. Beth smiled.

"I know. I trust you," Beth assured him before giving him a taunting look. "Try not to get shot, okay? I can handle some bruises, but," Daryl interrupted her by closing the gap between them and giving her a swift hug, sending her into euphorics.

"Ain't gonna promise anythin'. Same to you. Last thing I need is a soul mark when I'm sneakin' around uncharted terrain." He said quietly as he let her go. He took a deep breath and rubbed his face before trying to speak again.

"I know. I know Daryl. It's okay. You ain't gotta say it." Beth told him, still so close she could hear his heart pumping fast.

Daryl's cheeks were flushed pink as he cleared his throat. "See ya in a day or so. Take care of Asskicker and Carol and your paw."

And with that being said, he was gone, leaving Beth leaning against the metal fence, waiting until they pulled away. She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes, a hopeful feeling in her heart that she hoped was a sign that everything would be okay.

___________________________

The soul marks started appearing on Beth midway through the night. Beth shot up in her bed as she felt the burn run deep in her wrists, rubbing them anxiously, although there was no pain, she didn't know what it meant for Daryl.

Next, she lurched over and threw up, feeling the burn in her abdomen. She'd felt that one before. Someone just kicked, or punched, or somethin', in his gut.

"Daddy!" She screamed, not wanting to go through this alone. Not tonight.

And then again, in the side of her face, the warmth tingled and made her head dizzy, her eyes glaze over. It was like it was when she was back on the farm, alone in her room at night, feeling all these marks, that she could now only guess were from fighting.

"Beth?" Carol said, rushing into her cell. "Beth, you're bleeding!" She reached up and touched her cheek, noticing blood dripping down the side from a bit of flesh being scrapped off.

And then over, and over, and over, until Beth was just lying in bed with her head in her daddy's lap, saying soft prayers and singing quiet hymns to her as bruises formed all over her slender body.

For those moments that felt like a lifetime, she thought that was it. That suddenly, she wouldn't feel anything anymore.

She was right. She didn't feel anything for the rest of the night. She didn't sleep at all, memorizing every fresh mark on her body and feeling hopeless.   
___________________________

Daryl found Merle. His brother. His brother that he hadn't seen since—since his best fuckin' friend cuffed him to a roof in Atlanta. Cut his own fuckin' hand off, cauterized it, hadn't been seen since.

To find out he was workin' with this Governor. Torturing his family.

Found him face to face in a fuckin' arena, surrounded by people, chained walkers, and told he had to fight Merle to the death.

In his head, he begged for Beth's forgivness for the soul marks she was going to feel, that would no doubt make her worry, and truth be told, he hadn't been so sure how he was going to get out of that arena.

But he was blood. He was family. He wasn't gonna leave him. Not again.

"I'm not leavin' him. Not again."

"What about Carol? What about Beth?" Glenn had pleaded. Beth.

"Carol will understand," Daryl said, adjusting his bow in his arms.

"And tell Beth.. Sorry."

___________________________

Without any sleep, Beth went about her daily routine with Judith, trying to keep busy. She ignored the new group who had been locked up in what she called the day room outside the cell block- she only remembered the kind man Tyreese, and that the woman, Sasha, was his sister. Sasha had mistaken Beth for being Judith's mother and she quietly told her she wasn't, and hurried out without an explanation. Luckily, though, no one commented on her face.

Later in the day, Hershel said that Beth needed some fresh air, so she want on a perimeter check with Carol and Carl. Beth didn't engage in the small talk, not today, not knowing what to say when every time Carol looked at her, she saw fear in her eyes.

Carol was the first to spot the cars pulling back up to the gates, rushing out, looking for everyone.

"Where's Daryl?" Carol asked, glancing back at Beth.

"He's alright. He's alive. We ran into his brother." Rick explained. "They went off."

"He left?" Carol said, shocked. "Daryl left? He's gone?"

Beth pushed through the gate now, marching up to the group that just returned. "What do you mean 'they went off'?"

"Is he coming back?" Carol asked, tears welling in her eyes, and for a moment, Beth wanted to tell her to shut the hell up. She loved Carol, to death, but in her selfish moment, she was angry that Rick was comforting Carol over Daryl's soulmate.

But only for a moment, because quickly, the grown woman was in Beth's arms, holding the younger blonde tight, crying softly into her shoulder, whispering things into her neck that she couldn't make out through the sobs.

___________________________

Beth and Carol stayed glued to each other that day, watching after Judith together. She heard stories about Sofia, Carol's Daughter, as a baby, and Beth smiled, remembering when she used to think one day she'd be a mother. Judith, though, was the next best thing.

"I don't see why he had to leave," Beth finally said, breaking the elephant in the room that had been lingering for hours. "Merle.. Sounds like a jerk."

"Men like Merle get inside your head. Daryl doesn't know any better. He feels like he owes him something, even now that he's his own person."

"We're weak without him. Doesn't he know that?" I'm weak without him. Beth was bitter to admit it. She was going through a rollercoaster of emotions, she was figuring it was like the five stages of grief.

"My husband, Ed? He wasn't my soulmate." Carol confided. "I never had a chance to meet mine. The marks stopped before I met Ed.

"We'll get through this. Without Daryl. And maybe have a bittersweet moment when you get a mark to know he's still out there.. Being a dumbass."

Beth looked down at the infant in her arms, bouncing her gently, smiling at the angel.

"I thought the prison was gonna be our chance to finally do somethin', figure somethin' out about.. What we wanted. If we wanted anything." Beth said softly. "When I was little, my momma said my soul mate was my prince. Even with all the bangs and bruises. When I found out it was Daryl, I knew it was a different kind of story, but.. Not the type where he'd leave."

"I'm pissed at him for leavin'." Beth finally said, and Judith must have felt her anger bubbling inside, because she started crying. Carol smiled weakily and took Judith from her arms.

"Daryl has a code. He's loyal. Family runs deep with him. He just needs to realize that blood isn't the deepest it goes."   
___________________________

The first two days with Merle and Daryl remembered why he hated the sunuvabitch so goddamn much, and god, he missed the prison.

Everything was a competeion. Hunting, for instance. Couldn't find any squirrels, Merle had to make it into a manly challenge. Daryl offered that they scavenge a house? Merle called his family out on bein' no good thieves.

No, Dixon men earned their keep, a lesson Daryl obviously must have forgotten.

"I guess it'll take a bit for us to, uh, readjust to each other, little brother," Merle said with a snide laugh. "Now that you're house broken. With all them prison folk."

"They're good people," Daryl told him. "We could go back. Try to make things work. Food. Shelter. Fences."

"They don't want us there, baby brother! You told them! 'No him, no me.' And they didn't chose you. They let you walk away. Shows how good they are to ya. Sides. Governor will be after them.

Hell, they probably already dead. Rapin' the woman, killin' the men right in front of them before hand."

"They ain't dead." Daryl snapped. "I'd know, and ain't a thing has happened."

"What, you got some mental connection to your boy-toy, Officer Friendly?" Merle snorted. "Naw, they all gone."

"They ain't." Daryl said angrily. "Look at this shit." He shoved his left wrist in his face, showing his slightly faded soul mark.

Merle frowned, snatching his brothers wrist. "You little fuckin' pussy. You tried to end it? With a knife to your fuckin' arm?"

Daryl ripped his arm back. "It's a mark. A soul mark. If anything happened at the prison, we wouldn't be out here, I'd be high tailin' it back there for Bet- for them!"

Merle bit his lower lip, an evil smile on his face. "Little brother," he cooed. "You gettin' down and dirty with a lady at the prison? That's why you wanna go back? Really high tail it back there.. For your goddamn soul mate? God damn, bein' sheltered has made you soft."

"Ain't fuckin' soft to care about other people. They were there for me when you weren't!"

"I wasn't there for you because of them!"

"We went back for you!" Daryl barked. "You had to fuckin' steal our van when we went back to get you! You gave us no choice!"

Merle sighed. "My, my, my, baby brother. Lemme think on it. I'll take you back if you're nicer when you're all frisky with a woman."


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

> _Previously on[Soulmates](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8690521/chapters/20971106)"_
> 
>  
> 
> _Beth channeled her conflicting feelings into taking more initiative around the prison. The tombs were overrun, and they were sure that the Governor was coming any minute to shoot up the place._
> 
> _She wished that Daryl was there. Carol was right; they could do this on their own. It just... The world she was used to these days seemed a little off with him gone for a week. She didn't talk about it, she scribbled some bits in her journal, felt a few little scribbles here and there._
> 
> _Carl was bein' real sweet on her, asking her to go outside and do checks with him, showing her how to better her aim, and over the few days, she did feel more confident with a gun._
> 
> _On the eighth day after what happened, when she was out with Daryl, the Governor attacked while she was out in the yard with Carl. It started with a headshot to the inmate Axel._
> 
> _Carl grabbed her, and they both ducked and covered behind a while, running towards their cell block. Maggie, hearing the gunfire, appeared from the cell block threw Beth a large automatic weapon she had only used to bash walker skulls in before._
> 
> _She readied herself next to Carl as a van drove through the fences and unleashed walkers into the yard._
> 
> * * *
> 
>  

 

Daryl and Merle seemed to arrive outside the fences of the prison right on time. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he moved quickly through the trees, his eyes on Rick emptied his colt python fighting off the walkers. Rick was able to take down a few walkers with his axe, but they began to crowd the cop, pinning him to a fence. Daryl, finally able to get a line of sight, aimed his bow and took out one of the walkers Rick was struggling with. In unison, Merle and Daryl began taking out the remaining walkers surrounding Rick as the Governor and his men pulled away.

 

Glenn, thankfully, had driven one of the trucks into the infested yard and sped back towards the prison. Maggie, Beth and Carol quickly shut the gates behind him. Maggie ran to her boyfriend and father, making sure the two were alright. If Beth hadn’t felt that shock up her spine, drawing her to look out towards the field of walkers, she would have as well.

 

A range of emotions she couldn’t comprehend besides a hot fire in her chest erupted as she felt Daryl, watched Daryl, Rick and Merle fight their way to the gate. All she could do was stare at him, immobilized in place. Part of her wanted to scream at him—she was so angry at him, angry that he left. Other parts were nothing but grateful, her heart swelling that he was right there again, seemingly unharmed. It took everything in her not to lunge herself at him and hold him tight. But there was too much happening right now, too much to worry about now, to let her overwhelming soulmate instincts to take over.

 

Instead, she took a deep breath and walked over to her daddy. She felt Daryl’s eyes burning into her, but she wouldn’t—couldn’t—bring herself to look. Daryl’s sudden return didn’t change what pain he caused her by leaving, and now was not the time to rush to him.

 

* * *

 

 

Daryl was just lucky enough to make it back in time to the prison to protect Rick. His mind was overwhelmed with the mess that the Governor had made, and when the group all resorted to the cell block, his eyes kept wandering to Beth. She hadn’t spoken a word to him yet. He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain his reasonings for leaving with Merle. He could feel her mixed energy of feelings, her body language told him that he had made a mistake. He found it hard to focus on Rick and Hershel’s words while discussing what the next step was, his body buzzing with the presence of his soulmate so nearby yet completely closed off to him.

 

Barely able to participate in the discussion, he spoke up several times after Merle, who was locked in the common room away from the others, trying to keep his head at the danger at hand. Handling the situation with Beth would come later. Right now, the family’s wellbeing and safety was most important. Beth’s safety was important. He wasn’t going to let anything else happen to any of his people.

 

“What’s the difference whose fault it is?” Beth’s voice beckoned through the cellblock. Daryl stiffened, watching the fired-up blonde. “What do we do?”

 

After an outburst of anger from Hershel, Rick left. The rest of the group silently disbanded, going to their cell blocks or pairing off to discuss what was on their mind. It was only then that Daryl felt Beth open to, looking over at him from across the stairwell. He hesitated, almost taking a step forward, but she made the first move and sauntered over to him. Her lips were pursed, he could see the torment on her face.

 

Beth’s movements slowed as she neared closer to him, stopping just at arm’s reach in front of him. She said nothing to him, just stood in front of him, studying his face. He didn’t know how long they just stood there, staring into one another’s eyes. He longed to brush her hand with his own, just feel that electricity to make sure she was really in front of him, but her eyes were screaming with torment.

 

“He’s my brother.” Daryl finally managed to say. His throat was dry, his pulse was racing. Her expression didn’t change at his words.

 

“He’s your brother.” Beth’s voice was heavy. “But we’re your family. This—,” She lifted her bangs to show a soul mark, the scrap Daryl had received the night at Woodbury while he was in the arena, ”it ain’t mean nothin’ to you.”

 

Daryl’s hand was immediately brushing the soul mark on her forehead. His fingertips tingled, rushing up his arm at the touch, his chest tightened, and he was having trouble breathing. Just from a lingering brush of his fingers.

 

She didn’t flinch back. Beth’s eyes shut, a soft gasp escaped her lips at the gentle touch. They both felt this. He took a step closer, lowering his hand.

 

“It ain’t nothin’,” Daryl defended, his voice low and gruff. His face felt hot. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Daryl wasn’t exactly known for his way with words.

 

Beth shook her head. “We ain’t got time for this right now.” She said, looking down into the cell block. When she brought her eyes back up to Daryl, they were soft again, looking up into his own blues. “I’m just glad you’re back with us now.”


	6. Chapter 6

Later in the day, Daryl was sitting in his bunk, trying not to think about all the things that could end up happening over the course of the next few days. They were, without a doubt, going to war now. And with Merle in the prison, he felt torn between blood and the people that took him in and were now more family to him than his own ever was. He didn’t even want to think about Beth right now, even though her ever constant presence was lingering under his skin. 

He could feel her. He didn’t have to be in the room with her to feel her energy, it was overwhelming him. He didn’t know how to deal with this. So, he decided to sit in his bunk and sharpen his arrows when Carol approached him, a twisted smirk of a smile on her face.

“Haven’t had a chance to say, I’m glad you came back.” The woman said, leaning against his door frame. He scoffed, fiddling with his arrow. 

“To what? All this?” He muttered, looking around before glancing at her. She took a seat across from him.

“This is our home, Daryl. Your family is here.” He almost snorted as he shook his head.

“Ain’t gonna be ‘home’ much longer,” Daryl said. “Merle’s locked up like a goddamn animal, getting’ thrown scraps and shit,” With a huff, he continued. “Y’all ain’t never gonna let him stay.”

Carol pursed her lips, resting her elbows on her knees to lean forward. “Glenn and Maggie have their reasons, and they have their right to.” Pausing for a moment, as if she were looking for the words to continue. “If it comes down to it? I would vouch for your brother,” then, with a small smirk, she quietly added, “I do have a sweet spot for you Dixon’s.” 

Daryl snorted, shaking his head, muttering something about bullshit. 

Carol’s face looked peaceful, a sad smile gracing her lips. “Back in Atlanta, before Rick came along, I saw the looks you boys gave Ed and I.” Daryl tried not to notice how she hadn’t mentioned her daughter. “He’d ask me if I was alright sometimes, offer me a little extra bit of somethin’ to eat if Ed was in the tent, or somethin’.” 

Daryl raised his eyebrow. “Guess that’s about as chivalrous as Merle can get,” he muttered, chuckling a bit. 

Back then, at the Atlanta camp, Merle didn’t bother with trying to keep his distaste for Ed a secret. Merle Dixon was a lot of things, but… Beatin’ a woman wasn’t a line he’d never dare cross.

“Suppose it is,” Carol mused, patting Daryl on the knee. “People can change, Daryl. You changed. Look at how far you’ve come.”

“Think Merle’s too far set in his ways to change at this point,” Daryl muttered, leaning back into his bunk. 

“Maybe. Guess only time can tell. Either way, no matter what a prick he is, and despite his attitude problem, well. He’s not an idiot and can help keep us all together.

But he’s got this… Hold over you, Daryl. He’s not good to you. You don’t have to do what he says anymore. You don’t owe him anything.” 

Daryl sighed, suddenly wanting this discussion to be over. “This why ya came over here? Warn me ‘bout my damn brother?” 

“You wish. No, I just got done watching Judith and handed her off to Beth.” Carol stated. Daryl didn’t know if the blood was rushing or draining from his face from embarrassment—or shame. “Have you two talked yet?” 

Daryl didn’t say anything, not even a grunt, staring up at the ceiling. He did not want to be having this conversation with Carol. Or anyone, ever, for that matter. 

“More important shit to worry ‘bout than some damn bullshit,” He finally grumbled, rubbing his face. While it was true, it was heavy on his heart. Daryl had liked the slow pace of the—god, was Daryl in a relationship with Beth? He didn’t know. He hadn’t a damn clue what to do with a soulmate. He wanted to make amends with the woman as soon as he could, once they figured all the shit out that was going on with Woodbury.

 ________________

Meanwhile, Beth was caring to Judith for the afternoon, trying to distract herself. She hummed and sang to the little one, letting herself get mesmerized in the beauty of her innocence. Beth realized she would do anything for this child, no matter what happened with this mess with Woodbury, Beth was Judith’s caretaker now. Rick had too much on his hands, and Beth was never forced to be a fighter unless it was necessary. In the past, it bothered her that the group hadn’t given her more opportunities to prove herself, but now, she had her purpose. Taking care of Judith. 

In her cell block, she heard the group who had been outside trying to clear the walkers come in. A woman’s voice, a voice she had forgotten until now, echoed through the block. Judith in arms, she walked cautiously out of her bunk, approaching the common room. She lingered, listening through the door, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled as Daryl occasionally spoke up. It was Andrea, Andrea from Atlanta, Andrea who--,

Andrea who told her it was better for Beth to end it rather than stay in this world. Andrea’s “advice” that day on the farm, after she had been so low all she wanted was to die, left her alone so she could lock herself in the bathroom and harm herself. Beth’s blood boiled for a few moments as she took deep breaths. She didn’t hold grudges. Andrea saw Beth as a weak little thing, not capable. But she made it this far, even after her suicide attempt, and she wasn’t going to let anything stop her now. She could forgive Andrea.

Beth went back to her bunk, lost in thought as she rocked ‘Lil Ass-Kicker. On the topic of forgiving a woman who had encouraged her to end her life, she knew she couldn’t keep her frustration with Daryl any longer. He had betrayed her trust in leaving, yes, but he came back. Deep down, she wasn’t mad at him at all. She was just hurt that soulmate didn’t hold the same meaning to Daryl as it did to herself. 

She realized he hadn’t grown up on fairytales and sweetness like she had. He hadn’t dreamt up the day he finally met her like she had fantasized about for so many years. That’s when it occurred to her that maybe he just wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be like. In her mind, they were supposed to fall in love and spend their lives together, happily. But they were just barely getting to know each other still, even after all this time they spent on the road last winter. 

It wasn’t until Carol came to her, asking if she could see Judith for a while. She wanted to introduce Andrea to the baby. Beth internally hesitated, not wanting to give the little girl up, but smiled and handed her over. 

“Why don’t you get out in the sun for a bit?” Carol suggested. “Maggie and the others are outside, getting a car ready for Andrea to leave.” 

Realizing she had been inside the entire day, fresh air and sunlight sounded like heaven to her. With a nod, she stood up and was about to excuse herself when Carol spoke again.

“You alright?” The woman asked, and Beth stopped her movements, looking at Carol curiously. 

“Of course,” She replied a little too fast. And with that, she made her way out of the cell block, grabbing a rifle on the way.

Maggie, Glenn, Carl and Rick were walking aimlessly around the car. Rick seemed impatient. She wasn’t sure if she should approach him. Andrea’s arrival, and what had happened with the field and the Governor, he was incredibly on edge. He hadn’t spent much time with his daughter at all.  
Instead, she found her way next to Carl. It was odd seeing the young boy holding the gun but was grateful he had a bullet proof vest on as well. The last thing she wanted for him was to get shot again. 

It was then that she felt his eyes on her, causing her to turn her head and find Daryl leaning against the prison wall. He had his crossbow in arms, and he looked away when she spotted him. How long would they be playing cat and mouse? 

Once Andrea had come out to leave, she gave Beth a sad smile and climbed in her car. After a small exchange of “good lucks,” and “be safe,” with Rick, she was gone. 

The several people who were outside wandered back into the block, and Beth realized Daryl had probably been the first to scamper away. Merle Dixon, on the other hand, was slowly sauntering towards her with a knowing smirk on his face. Her body tensed with a bit of intimidation, but she tried to stand a bit taller and hold her head high.

“Well, hey there, miss Sunshine,” Merle mused, an oddly satisfied grin on his face. “I don’t think we’ve had tha’ pleasure of a proper introduction.” When he finally was in front of her, he held his hand out. “Merle. Merle Dixon.”

Beth found herself smiling. She had heard many things about Merle, but this mixture of cocky charisma surprised her. Lowering her weapon, she took his hand, shaking it gently. “Beth Greene. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Dixon.”

________________  
When dusk finally came, and darkness engulfed the prison, the group gathered in cell block B, a few lanterns and candles lit. The tension in the air could be felt by everyone, every single one of them had there guard up. 

Daryl hadn’t spoken to much of anyone today. He had mostly spoke in grunts and shrugs, except when Merle had approached him about meeting “ ‘Lil Miss Dandelion,” the nickname that Beth had now acquired. Daryl’s cheeks had flushed red with embarrassment and a bit of anger, unsure of the idea that Merle had been alone with Beth.

But he trusted Merle—he wouldn’t hurt Beth. He had made that clear with the ease of his voice as he spoke about his thoughts on her first impression. “Ain’t exactly what I was expecting, baby brother,” Merle mused, “but, then again, stranger things have happened.” 

Leaning against Hershel’s cellblock, beside the oldest Greene, he folded his arms across his chest. He was trying his best to avoid staring at Beth’s silhouette in the light of the lantern. He was startled when her voice rang out, echoing in the prison; Beth had begun to sing for everyone. He didn’t think he’d ever heard the song before, but it was beautiful. His skin puckered with goosebumps as he allowed his eyes to rest of Beth’s. 

He watched her sing and time slowed, he felt as if he had slipped into a dream as she glanced his way every now and then. It wasn’t until Rick approached, Judith in arms, that he was reminded of the horrors that had happened with Andrea.

“Keep an eye on your brother,” Rick instructed, giving Daryl a stern look. “I’m glad you’re back, really, but if he causes trouble? It’s on you,” 

“I got him,” Daryl reassured, understanding. As much as Daryl wanted to stay in denial, he knew the group had every reason to not let Merle stay. He knew that they were making this exception because they wanted Daryl to stay. 

With a look over at Beth, catching her eye, he wanted to make amends before they went to war. But he wasn’t sure how to make the first step towards fixing what he had broken and wasn’t sure if Beth would be so willing to forgive him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prison group prepares for war while Daryl tries to muster the courage to reach out towards Beth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (( hey, babies. So, I'm really grouping the timeline together, summarizing it, so I really suggest that maybe you watch some of season 3 to remember what had been going on. I want to get to where I branch off more into my own direction, but I did start the timeline VERY early on, but I'm aching to get to season 4 of the story already.  
> Thank you all so much for your never ending support, you have no idea how much it means. I'm going to revise / edit this Remix to add the first four chapters of the OG "Soulmates" so new readers know what's happen. Lots of love, teamemmykinney xxx ))

Beth hadn’t taken to talking to anybody but baby Judith in several days. Small “hellos,” and “how are you,” chit chat, but nothing deep. There was only two people she felt she could speak to about what she was feeling, daddy and Maggie.

But the two of them were gearing up for war. Over the past week, Rick, Daryl, Hershel, and Merle had gone off to speak to the Governor, and upon their return, Rick announced the news. Beth was nervous. She had gotten well enough with a gun, but she preferred to taking walkers down behind the safety of the fence. Although she had taken down walkers with oddities of knives and such, she knew she could handle one or two walkers if she wasn’t ganged up on. But war? These were real people. Men and women. 

Her daddy had assured her that she wouldn’t have to fight, that she would oversee staying out of sight until this all blew over, somewhere safe inside the prison with Judith, maybe Carl—although Carl had proven himself to be stubborn, more than willing to battle.

___________________

Daryl and Beth had seemed to be dodging each other throughout the days. Each time he left for a run, her heart races with anxiety, preparing herself for a soul mark to burn into her skin. She dreaded his leaving, and when he returned safely each time, relief would swarm over her. 

It wasn’t only Beth that was worried, though. Daryl, too, worried about Beth’s safety as the severity of the battle grew near. When it became clear that there was no reasoning with the Governor, no way to avoid a war, he didn’t want Beth to be involved. He felt her anxiety each time they were in proximity of each other, felt her eyes glance at him across the way. Something inside him wanted to go to her, reach out and comfort her, but hell if he knew how. He was never the emotional type, and he still hadn’t a clue what to do. Carol had tried to talk to him about what to do, how to go about it, but he shut her down each time. He claimed it wasn’t worth it. Wasn’t worth the worry. But it wasn’t as if he could ignore the universal tie to Beth Greene. They were bound together, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. Daryl was Beth’s, through and through. 

Beneath his angst driven denial, he wished she would approach him first to speak. About anything, just a soft hello, a gentle touch on the arm so he could feel that burn of his soulmates touch ignite his body into euphoria. But it hadn’t come, not yet. 

He pushed these thoughts away the best he could, focusing on Rick and his plans. He learned that the fight between the two communities was going to be settled. Today, Merle would be handing over Michonne to the Governor. Merle seemed nonchalant about it, as if it was every day business to lead a woman to her death, even knowing what the Governor was capable of.

But Rick had changed his mind at the last moment. He wouldn’t sacrifice Michonne, and Daryl went off after Merle to stop him before he handed the woman over.

___________________

"I'm not your Governor. We choose to go. We choose to stay. We stick together." Ricks words rang in Beth’s ears, she was dumbfounded at the thought that for a second that they were going to give up Michonne. Apparently, the Governor wanted Michonne, and that would call of the war that was coming. But Daryl, who she noticed leaving earlier, had gone to stop the exchange.

When it came to the newest arrival, Beth was more than intimidated by the sword-wielding woman. Michonne was so… Stoic, quiet, always observing or doing small exercises in the common room to keep her strength. Beth had noticed, though, that when she carried Judith past the older woman, she would avert her gaze instead of her usual focus. The blonde didn’t read much into it, though. But she was one of them now, or so she had thought. She was glad Rick had changed his mind. Beth didn’t want anyone else to get hurt by this ordeal with the Governor. 

Rick had gathered the small group outside on the crisp fall day. He had broken it down for everyone; he wasn’t going to keep his dictatorship going. Although, it never felt like a dictatorship, not really. She trusted Rick with her life. She was never in the inner circle to know how troubling things were, but Rick would always smooth out the situations that lied ahead to ease Beth’s worries. 

As Rick walked away after finishing his announcement, (which she felt this was the right decision, letting everyone have a say going forward. She often felt her voice wasn’t heard, or that she was just seen as a silly twenty-one-year-old babysitter.) Her daddy put her arm around her. She gave him a weak smile, leaning into his familiar body.

“This is our home now,” Beth spoke, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “That’s my say.” Maggie, for the first time, looked over at her sister and smiled with pride. 

It wasn’t much later that Beth was sitting with Carol and Judith that a sharp gasp escaped her lips. It wasn’t a soul mark, no, but an intensity of pure agony washed over her. She clutched her chest, eyes wide as she looked around. Where was Daryl? 

___________________

Screeching through to the fence, Daryl had returned. He almost slammed his hands on the horns to get Maggie and Glenn to open the gate faster, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good but attract the walkers. 

Bloodstained and exhausted, Daryl climbed out of the car and slammed the door. He marched off in the direction of C-Block, where Merle had been staying. He didn’t know what he was looking for. He ached. His brother, his last true family, the man who had raised him, who he followed without hesitation for so long. He was gone. Merle was gone. He had put his brother’s walker form down himself. 

He collapsed to his knees besides a torn mattress—one of the mattresses Merle had ripped up hoping to find drugs that an old inmate had left behind before the outbreak—and started pounding his fist into it. The thin cushion didn’t protect his knuckles, soaking the mattress quickly, but he didn’t feel the pain. Not now. 

“Daryl?” Her panicked voice echoed in the cell block and froze in his place. He didn’t turn to look at her. He bowed his head down, realizing that her right hand must be on fire from the knew soul marks he was giving her. 

“Daryl,” Beth repeated, softer, as she knelt beside him. Her bloodied hand reached out, placing a delicate hand on his forearm. He shivered, taking in the moment he had been longing for all week. The feeling of his soulmates touch soothed his own soul, and he let out a shaky breath. Tears began to pour, and he didn’t care how weak he must’ve seemed to her. He felt raw with her touch. 

Beth’s arms slinked around him, gently pulling at him to lean into her, and he complied. His head burrowed into her neck, breathing in her scent, shutting his eyes tight. One hand rubbed his back gingerly as she whispered gentle words of comfort to him. Beth Greene wasn’t sure how long they were in cell block “C” as s held Daryl Dixon while he mourned for his lost brother.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( Alright! I am back to writing again! I'm working on the next chapter as we speak -- I want to thank everyone so much for who is still following this, and I promise I'm trying my best to get back into my TWD feels. After the past season and a half, I stopped watching, but my love for Bethyl is still strong. I hope y'all enjoy! P.S. I haven't properl;y editted this chapter yet, so let me know if anything seems off. This is so rusty. I keep saying that each chapter, but I'm getting back into the grind. I promise I am going to be posting at least twice a week from now on!)

Daryl, after a while of crying, pulled his face away from Beth’s tear-soaked shoulder. He was anxious, nervous to look at her face, into her eyes, and see the look on her face after all of this. He could only imagine how pathetic he must look right now in Beth’s eyes.

With his head down, he studied his busted knuckles and froze for a moment. Beth’s hand, the hand he had inflicted a soul mark on, was still cupping his neck. His own knuckles ached, and he wondered how she was feeling.

“ ‘M sorry,” he muttered, his voice a small rasp. Daryl shivered as Beth caressed his neck and shook her head gently.

“You haven’t got a thing to be sorry for, Daryl,” her voice was soft, calm, reassuring. Pulling her hand away from his neck, she carefully grabbed his busted hand. “Let’s go get these cleaned up,” she told him, and he numbly nodded in agreement.

They began to leave cell block “C” when Beth took Daryl’s hand in her own. She gently intertwined they fingers in the dark as they went back to their own blocks.

“I have some wrap and peroxide in my room,” Beth told him, “Emergency kit, in case, y’know… Daddy ain’t around to patch people up.”

He was surprised how calm she was saying that last part, as if her father dying was inevitable. Or maybe she just was accepting the world for how it was now and wanted to make sure to continue to help as much as she could. She was always helping everyone, and he began to wonder if anyone ever really thanked her for all the little things she has done for everyone to make things easier ‘round here.

They made their way to her bunk, where she started cleaning and dressing his wounds. “Don’t worry ‘bout mine,” she assured him, “I’ll be able to fix ma’self up.”

Daryl opened his mouth to protest when Beth continued. “We’re preparin’ for a fight,” She murmured, her hands delicately wrapping gaze around his hand. Daryl lifted his head while she continued. “We made a plan. To drive’m Woodbury folk away if they come.”

When Beth finished wrapping him up, her hand lingered on his. A comforting shiver ran through his body as he glanced over at her, unsure of if he should leave, unsure of how to act in this type of situation. Beth didn’t seem to mind, though, that he was unaware. She gave him a reassuring smile, moving her hand onto his forearm and giving him a gentle squeeze.

“You should go rest. We have a long day tomorrow.” She told him. Daryl lingered a few minutes longer as the two sat comfortably- all he wanted was to be held again, like she held him just a bit ago, but he finally stood up to leave. He should find Rick to tell him what happened and learn more about their new plan to fight.

“G’night,” The man managed, and when Beth removed her hand, he could still feel the warmth of her closeness.

“Goodnight, Daryl. I’ll see you in the mornin’,” Beth returned. With a nod, Daryl hesitated for a moment before leaving her cell. Throughout the night, he tossed and turned while trying to rid his mind of his brother’s death, trying to think of Beth’s comforting presence instead.

 

* * *

 

When morning came, Beth had packed up all her essentials, along with Judith’s, and began packing with everyone else into the cars. Sleep didn’t come easy to her last night as she worried for Daryl, feeling his pain of his loss. It ached in her heart as it did in his own.

She hadn’t had time like she hoped to speak with Daryl before anything happened. They had their plan: make the prison look abandoned, hide in the tombs. Beth, Carl, Hershel and Judith were to hide in the tree line if an attack was to come their way, which they were expecting any day, any moment now. When it was time to hide, when the Governor’s people arrived, Beth clung to her father and watched as they attacked their home.

Carl was distant, frustrated. He hadn’t said much at all that morning, when usually he’d greet Beth with a smile, even on these hard days. He wanted to be defending, too, and took it personally that it was decided he should be with Beth and Hershel out of fire.

Beth waited, watched as the Woodbury men and women fled the prison after more roars of gunfire. She held Hershel’s hand and prayed over and over in her head for her family inside the prison.

While the Governor’s people ran, she felt a bit of relief, grateful she could still feel Daryl’s presence- and no new soul marks. He was unharmed. She wondered if he too was relieved that nothing had happened to her. Although it wasn’t the time or place to be worrying about something so silly, she couldn’t help herself from wondering. After their night in the “C” block, she worried that he would back off after showing so much emotion in front of her.

It wasn’t until a young boy, not more than seventeen, ran up and found them. She ducked behind Hershel as he and Carl pointed their guns.

“Don’t shoot,” the boy immediately plead. Her daddy asked him to drop the weapon, and he complied immediately, holding his arm out slowly to drop his rifle in front of Carl. But Carl didn’t waver, standing his ground. With a single, silenced shot, the boy dropped to the ground. Beth gasped, eyes wide at Carl.

The silence was heavy. The Greene’s stood, shocked by Carl’s actions of killing the surrendering boy. Hershel’s lips were pursed into a thin white line as he turned to Beth. “We should get back to the group.”

Beth nodded, too fast, wanting eagerly to get back to safety. She felt cold, numb, picking up Judith’s car seat to settle into the car to drive back up to the prison. She didn’t know what to say, or what to think. She couldn’t believe Carl had murdered a young man and look so nonchalant in the car. As if it was the only solution.

Back at the prison, she felt like she was in auto pilot. Cradling Judith in her arms, she walked into the “A” block, just ahead of her Daddy and Carl. Judith cooed, and Rick greeted the baby with a kiss on the forehead and a comforting arm around Beth’s shoulder.

She didn’t look up from the baby as she went to go sit down. She faintly heard Carl talking to Rick about Woodbury. His words echoed in the cell as he boasted about “taking out one of the Governor’s soldiers.”

That’s when Hershel spoke up, announcing that the boy, the kid, was just running away and accidently found them. Beth stood at this point, leaving the visiting area and going into her now empty cell.

Maggie found her first. Not as if Beth was necessarily hiding, though. “Bethy,” she said, relieved, a smile on her face. “You okay?”

Beth swallowed and glanced about before settling on her sister. “Yeah,” she finally said, “just a lot happenin’ all at once.”

“I know.” Maggie agreed, sitting down next to her younger sister. Beth leaned into her sister’s body, letting Maggie’s arm slink around and pull her close. “They’re goin’ after them, to Woodbury.”

“They?” Beth asked, heart sinking, already putting the pieces together.

“Rick, Michonne. Daryl.” Maggie stated. “Glenn and I—we’re staying behind, to watch after prison. I ain’t gonna leave you, not again, okay?”

Beth sat up straight again, letting her sisters arm pull back and looked at Judith. She let out a little sigh. “Will you—will ya put Judith down for a nap? I’ve gotta-,” Before she finished her sentence, Maggie was taking the infant in her arms.

“I got her. Go on,”

 

* * *

 

Daryl paced back and forth upstairs, wanting to finish the fight. He wanted to murder the Governor, himself, for what he had done to Merle, to his family, to his home. He was practically seething today, once the reality of Merle’s death sunk in deeper and deeper. He wasn’t going to let his death go unpunished. Someone, he thought, had to be punished for it.

He was going after the Governor at his home. Daryl would go to Woodbury soon with Rick and Michonne by his side, without another thought. He was seeing red.

“Daryl?” Came her voice, breaking him from his cycling thoughts of revenge.

He didn’t even feel her coming, so wrapped in his own thoughts. He looked up at her, seeing her face seem paler than usual and eyes on the ground. Beth’s aura washed over him, and suddenly he realized he hadn’t considered the fact he was leaving again. Leaving always had a possibility of not returning. The last thing he wanted in this moment now was to leave Beth to worry more.

“You headin’ out soon?” She asked after he hadn’t responded. A small ‘mm-hm’ left his mouth as he paused his steps to lean against the guard rail. She slowly closed the space between the two of them to stand next to him.

“I get it.” Was what she said next, throwing him off guard. “I’d… I would if I could, too. After last time, after Maggie came back… I want to, too.”

“No,” Daryl said immediately. “You ain’t goin’.” His heart being to race. If she was there, he would be focused about her safety to get the job done. The affect Beth had on Daryl was too strong.

“Naw, my place is here. With Judith,” She reassured him. “I know that… You gotta do this.” Her words seemed carefully placed as she spoke. “I don’t want ya to worry about me. Look at me,”

Daryl immediately met her eyes, seeing her big blues peer into his soul. He felt her tuck a piece of his growing hair behind his ear. “I’ll be here. I’ll be safe.” His head was buzzing as a hand cupped his neck carefully like the night before. His skin burned in the best way at her touch, something he went back and forth on understanding. “Please come back, Daryl.”

 

* * *

 

 

When the trio left to go after Woodbury, Beth was at the gate, quickly shutting it and taking out walkers at the fence. Watching Daryl leave never got easier, not this time around, at least.

The hours went by slowly as she waited and waited for something to happen, worrying for a new soul mark, or to feel an emptiness. There wasn’t a guarantee on how the night was going to go. It wasn’t until morning when the roar of his motorcycle came that everyone rushed to the gates to see what had happened.

A bus followed into the prison yard, parking itself and piles of people coming out and entering the prison. Beth greeted as many as she could while her eyes darted for Daryl.

It was a hand on her shoulder, the jolt up her spine that spun her around. There he was. She smiled, a wide, genuine smile. “Came back,” he told her with a little smirk. “Don’t mind that we brought some folk back… They ain’t had a clue to what was happenin’ behind their back.”

“This is amazing,” Beth breathed, feeling as though she was buzzing. All these people. They did it, they kept their home. They saved these people from the wrath of the Governor. She had no idea how it had happened, or what they did to convince these people to come, but she knew in her heart that this was going to change everything about their lives for the best.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((fluff! lots of fluff at the end. just a little time killer before the shift into the problems of S4))

It took a bit of time for the prison to come together as a community. The people who had arrived from Woodbury where tight knit, which made sense, since they had all lived together for quite some time, and Beth had spent a lot of time getting to know a lot of them.

It was a life she never thought she’d have again, knowing more than just her small family she had spent over a year with. She was given more work than just caring for Judith, because Rick had finally come around to spending more and more time with his daughter. Carl, too, took a lot of time to spend with Judith. She was grateful that Rick was in a much better mindset.

Daryl, on the other hand, was on the council, along with Maggie, Glenn, Hershel, Rick, Michonne and Sasha. (Beth was always kept in the loop as well but had a smaller influence since she was often busy with more domestic work than going out on runs.) He didn’t have a lot of time to get to know people, but everyone seemed to know him. He was constantly being told hello, good morning, how are you doing, directed at him by name, and sometimes he remembered faces but was taking a longer time to adjust than Beth was.

Beth wasn’t discouraged, though. She often pushed him to come sit and eat with her, get to know some of the people she became close with.

It wasn’t until a boy named Zach started showing quite the interest in Beth that Daryl began coming around more often. Zach was persistent and obviously did not care about soulmates. He was just a young man, anyway, and he had never met his soulmate, and the odds of him finding them now was very unlikely. Daryl had overheard his banter with some of the other people around Beth’s age about trying to win her over, often exaggerating that he might have a chance. Beth always just smiled politely and dismissed any flirtation, but that didn’t make Daryl any less jealous.

Daryl never had the courage to bring up his jealousy to Beth. He didn’t know how. As time went on he began to worry he wasn’t enough for her. That she would get tired of waiting around for him and give into Zach’s constant attempts of winning her over.

Some days, Daryl felt so trapped with all the people around that he needed to get away. Hunting was the only solace he found besides alone time with Beth. Alone time was beginning to happen less and less as she picked up more responsibility around the prison. He was gone a lot, sometimes up to a week, to go hunting. It was Daryl’s job, along with scouting for more survivors to bring back to the prison.

He had noticed she was collecting little knick-knacks, making her cell very home-y and comforting rather than his own cell, which was just a bare bunk. When he would go out, he would always come back with a little gift for her. It was his way of letting Beth know that he was always thinking of her when he was away. He’d bring her things like a curtain for privacy, which she was overjoyed with, and when he found a long-abandoned bike shop, he found a sign that said “X-day’s Without an Accident” that she continuously updated, often putting her in good spirits the larger the number grew.

Most of the time when he returned, she was waiting in the field by the gate on a picnic blanket. Daryl didn’t know if it was the roar of the motorcycle that brought her out or the feeling of his return igniting inside her that drew her outside, even in the middle of the night or early morning.

Carol asked questions a lot about his still blooming relationship with Beth. He was still timid, unsure how to go about things, but Beth was incredibly patient with him. It was nice, for them both, to know that they were each other’s, without having to talk about it.

Beth was slowly but surely making Daryl more comfortable with affection each day. He still flushed each time she would simply hold his hand in public, never getting over that brilliant feeling of the small hum in his heart each time they touched. He loved it. It made him feel more at home here, in this prison, than he had ever felt before the world ended.

He noticed people were always staring at the couple, too. Murmurs and awes often followed any attention Beth happily gave him. A lot of people had given up on soulmates, so many people had lost their own, or never had a chance to meet them. Daryl didn’t want to ever have to feel the emptiness that was spoken about when you lose your soulmate. Although things were safe in the prison these days, with plenty of people to take care of one another, he never fully put his guard. It was almost too good to be true, and he didn’t want to get to comfortable in case something went wrong, and they’d have to leave.

Late last night, after a two-day hunting of a buck he spotted on a run that was only supposed to last an afternoon, he brought it back to the prison. He stopped by Beth’s cell, quietly speaking her name as to not wake up any of the other people in “A” block. He peaked inside, seeing her fast asleep, and he couldn’t help but smile a bit at how beautiful and peaceful she looked. Every part of him wanted to take off his boots, lay down beside her and hold Beth in his arms, but he retreated up the stairs to the guard station instead.

 

 

The next morning, Beth woke up at just before the sun came up. Her heart felt full of the presence of Daryl nearby. She wondered if he was on his way back, quickly slipping on her boots and trying to quietly exit the cell block to meet Daryl as he came back from his hunting trip. She missed him terribly whenever he was gone, especially when it was an occasion when he would leave for days when he was only planning on being gone a few hours, but she understood.

She waited outside for a bit, not hearing the roar of his bike, but feeling him nearby. Did he already come back, and she missed him? Beth always liked to greet him when he came back, no matter what the time. She could feel him, though, and wondered if he was in the tree line just before the prison, or inside.

Beth fiddled with the blanket she always brought with her outside until the sun started to come up moments later and picked herself up. She folded the blanket, tucked it under her arm and went back inside quietly.

Without hesitation, she felt his presence grow warmer and warmer. She peaked around the cell block, people starting to wake up to do their chores, and finally laid her eyes up in his guard tower. All she saw was his silhouette, but it was enough to make her heart flutter. She quickly and quietly made her way up the stairs, hoping her boots didn’t wake anyone who still slept, and slipped into his little nook.

He was asleep in his chair. It was one of the few times that Beth could think of that he ever looked so relaxed. More and more often lately, though, she noticed he would not be as tense around her like he usually would. Almost as if he was letting his guard down for her.

Beth didn’t mind how long it was taking Daryl to really open up, and she cherished every moment they spent together.

“Daryl?” She whispered quietly, not quiet wanting to wake him, but hoping he would.

His eyes fluttered open, immediately turning his chair towards the doorway. Daryl was immediately alert, standing up. Beth didn’t waste any time closing the space between them to wrap her arms around him. His own arms naturally embraced her petite frame as he rested his head on top of hers.

She took a deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent of leather. Her body was electric. Something as simple as a brush of his hand sent her flying, so when the held each other, it was like an explosion within herself.

“Missed ya,” Beth told him quietly after moments went by, maybe even several minutes in his arms. He let out a soft grunt, and she knew he felt the same.

Reluctant for both, they released one another, and Beth gazed up into his eyes. Even in this dim light of the cell block, she saw his flushed cheeks. She couldn’t help but grin.

“Got a deer,” he muttered, as if he was bashfully proud. A deer these days went a long way for feeding, even with all the people. Jerky was often made for snacks since some of the Woodbury folk were able to make it.

“That’s wonderful,” Beth told him, reaching out and grabbing his hand to hold.

Suddenly, she was tired. Unfortunately, when he was gone on hunts, she didn’t sleep very well. Always wondering and worrying about a soul mark appearing in the night.

A yawn escaped her lips, and Daryl looked down at her with a knowing look. “Ya haven’t slept much, have ya.” It wasn’t a question: he knew the answer.

Beth shrugged easily. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you got back. When did you get back tonight?”

“Pretty late. Ain’t nothin to be sorry for.” Daryl nodded his head down to the cell blocks. “Why don’t ya get some rest before ya gotta start the day,”

Beth hesitated, knowing she probably should, but didn’t want to miss any time with him. “Only if ya keep me company,” she decided, tugging gently on his arm, ushering him to follow.

Once in her cell block, she took off his boots as Daryl stood in the doorway, shifting his feet. He still wasn’t at all used to being in her cell, worrying he was over stepping boundaries. He was still unaware of how to go about things like this, even though more and more often he found himself laying next to her in bed.

“C’mon, silly,” she told him, gesturing him to come closer. He slowly took off his boots and dropped his vest. He was feeling pretty tired himself, but he had a long day ahead of him.

Beth laid in her bed, scooting over for him to lay next to her. He followed suit, not minding the little bit of room these bunks had for too people. Automatically, Beth’s arm was draped over Daryl’s chest, her head snuggling into him. In turn, he put his hand over hers and caressed his thumb over the back of her hand.

Beth let out a soft ‘hmm’, smiling happily. These little moments meant the world to them both. Daryl was smiling, too, letting his eyes shut and letting himself relax in her arms.

He loved Beth Greene, he thought to himself. He loved her, and he wouldn’t ever give this up again for anything.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl goes on a run. Beth comforts him when he gets back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (( hey my loveliest babies, I finally wrote something NOT filler, and it's 3k words! I am trying to come back from this shitty writers block! ))

The morning in Beth’s cell, cuddled together, was cut short when Daryl’s eyes opened and saw the sign beaming into the cell block. He had to get up and do his job, and so did she.

Every part of him was humming with the buzz of Beth’s body beside him. She was curled so perfectly into him, made to be next to him. He didn’t want to move, and he slowly shifted his weight to climb out of her bed when Beth shuffled quietly. 

With a tiny groan, she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She smiled at him, her hand reaching out to caress his back. 

“Time to start the day.” She stated, sounding a little more like disappointed. He understood all too well. But they both had responsibilities. 

“Scoot,” Beth said, gently nudging him off her bed. They both stood. Beth was the one to get moving first, though, and he caught himself staring at her as she pulled her boots on. When she started to lift her shirt to change, he swiftly turned away, focusing suddenly on his vest and his own boots. 

“Daryl Dixon,” Beth laughed quietly, shaking her head. “Always the gentleman,” His face was burning red. “I should’a warned you. ‘M sorry.”

“S’alright,” he grunted, unable to look at her. She stepped towards him, laying her hand on his shoulder. 

“I wasn’t thinkin’. Just wanted to get into a clean shirt for ta-day. Everyone’s going to be excited to eat that deer ya brought in, Daryl,” she murmured reassuringly, and he was back to feeling himself. The comfort of her touch, the spark that set his soul alive, always eased any embarrassment. 

“I gotta go get ready for the run today,” Daryl said. Beth’s hand slowly removed itself from his shoulder, and he just barely heard her tiny sigh. 

“I know- I know,” she said. “Ya just got back, I miss you, s’all.” 

“Be back before ya know it,” he promised her. Shouldn’t be a hard run today, just going to scout for some supplies.

“Promise not to leave without me findin’ ya to say goodbye?” Beth asked. Daryl nodded with a grunt, looking down at her. A piece of her hair that didn’t fit in her messy ponytail fell was in her face, and he instinctively tucked it behind her ear. This time, she was the one to turn pink.  
“I’ll see ya then.” He promised, leaving the cell. 

 

Beth was on fence detail today. It wasn’t her favorite chore to do—she’d rather be with Judith, or folding laundry, but she didn’t mind overall. She liked Karen, and Tyreese, and enjoyed talking with them. She made little eyes and faces at Karen over the weeks as Tyreese flirted with Karen so blatantly. 

Things were finally starting to feel like they did before the turn. Beth liked the structure, the order that their community provided. She liked the start of the day, everyone going to get breakfast. She made her way down, the picnic tables already filling up with people, and she smiled at the familiar chatter. 

It had been so quiet the winter before the prison, when Rick was in charge. So much had changed now.

Beth made her way over to Carol, who was cooking. “Good morning, sunshine,” Carol said with a smile.

“Mornin’,” Beth chirped. “How’s the food coming? Need another set of hands?” 

Beth loved time with Carol. In her opinion, Carol was the closest person to Daryl besides Rick (and herself,) and she loved to gossip here and there about her blossoming relationship. She often looked to Carol for romantic advice, and Carol was always happy to give any information to help. 

Beth’s only relationship, if she would even consider it one, was with Jimmy, back before the turn, and they never did very much. Beth didn’t mind going slow with Daryl, not one bit, because she was good at being slow and sweet. But a part of her itched for something more. She had to restrain herself more than once when she was alone with Daryl; there was always a moment between the two, when they’d be gazing into each other’s eyes, where the electricity between them ran so deep that she wanted to fill the gap and kiss him so tenderly. 

It had been just over a year since they found each other. She couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be until they reached a more physical part of the relationship. Beth wasn’t sure how to even approach the subject, not with Daryl, who would immediately turn red and not give a clear response.

Beth had decided it would happen when it was meant to happen. That was that. 

“Beth?” Carol had called Beth out of her daze of longing for Daryl. “You alright?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Beth quickly told her. “Sorry, lost in my head for a bit.”

“We can chat later on, if you’d like.” Carol’s knowing tone made Beth smile shyly. “Don’t look now, but they’re starin’ at you.” 

Beth immediately sighed, fighting the urge to glance back. Some younger men in the community had taken a liking to Beth. Carol had tried to explain, once, claiming that it’s hard to find anyone to be with these, and seeing a beautiful young woman like herself? Drove men wild. 

“They probably think you’re just playing hard to get,” Carol mused once, when Beth asked what all the fuss was about. Beth didn’t understand how the men would just disregard the fact her soul mate was here, and that she was open with it. “Men don’t care. They see something they want,” Carol had muttered, disgusted, “and they’ll find any reason why they should be able to have it.”

It made Beth incredibly uncomfortable, being looked at like a piece of meat. With pursed lips, she grabbed a bowl, filled it with a handful of strawberries and told Carol she’d see her later.

“Beth! Goodmorning!” A teenager named Patrick, just a few years younger than Beth, stood to greet her goodmorning. 

“Hi, Patrick. How are you today?” Beth said politely, feeling eyes on her still and wishing to sit down and blend into the tables.

“Fantastic, now that there’s all this deer. Wish I could have more than one plate. Mr. Dixon is a god-sent.” Beth bit back a laugh, nodding in agreement. 

“We’re lucky to have’m,” she smiled. “Mind if I take a seat?” 

“Go ahead!” Patrick ushered towards the table, and Beth scooted onto the bench. When she went to greet the people she was sitting with, Zach—someone who had his sights on Beth since he first came to the prison—shifted his body to look at her.

“Mornin’, Beth,” Zach started, a little smirk on his face. “What’s an angel like you blessing us with her presence for?” 

Beth tried not to sigh, forcing herself to smile and shake her head. “Good morning to you too, Zach.” 

“You know, I’m goin’ on a run today. I was wondering if you could give me a good-luck kiss.” He asked. She opened her mouth to respond when a chorus of voices started calling out.

“Mornin’, Daryl!”

“Hey, Daryl, good morning!”

“Good to see you Daryl!” 

Zach sat up straight, suddenly all his confidence was gone. Beth smiled, looking down at her strawberries and plopping one in her mouth. She felt Daryl, never getting over how amazing it felt when he would walk by. She glanced in the direction he was in, he had stopped by to get food from Carol. Patrick, for some reason, approached him, and she couldn’t exactly here what the younger man said, but they ended up shaking hands. Patrick looked starstruck.

After the encounter, Daryl caught Beth’s eye and made his way to her. He frowned when he looked at her bowl of strawberries.

“That it? That’s what you’re callin’ breakfast?” He asked her, and Beth looked up at him, an apologetic smile on her face.

“I’m gonna get somethin’ after everyone else gets there turn, don’t you worry,” Beth told him. She turned around on the bench, look at him. She grabbed a strawberry from her bowl and offered it to soulmate. He took it, and the smallest brush of their fingers sent both into a haze of feelings. 

A few moments, or minutes, maybe, later, Beth recognized that they were in public and flushed. They broke the eye contact, and Daryl cleared his throat.

“Gotta talk to a few people, then we’re headin’ out.” Daryl stated with a thick voice. “Kid,” he called, nodding at Zach. “you sure you can handle a run?” 

“I-uh, course. I’d like to do my part to help.” Zach stuttered out as a response, and Beth tried not to roll her eyes. He was all talk when Daryl wasn’t around, flirting with her, trying to get her to away from whatever public area they were in to get Beth alone with him. It didn’t ever work.

Daryl just grunted, his gaze back on Beth. She smiled up at him. It was one of these moments where she wished she could steal a kiss from him. 

“Gonna go finish roundin’ up folk for the run.” Daryl stated, and in a softer voice, “Get yourself some real breakfast.” 

 

As promised, when everyone was rounded up for the run, he asked for a minute to find Beth. It wasn’t hard, as she was at the fence and he knew she kept turning to look at him. Even if he hadn’t been looking at her, too, her eyes burned comfortably into him from afar.

“Already time to go?” She called, setting down her wooden pick and wiping her brow. They made way to each other easily across the yard. 

Beth reached out with both hands, taking one of his and cupping it. She hummed, a smile on her face. “See you soon,” was all Beth said, before leaning up on her toes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, then turning around to go back to the fence.

Daryl grunted, watching her walk to the fence, mesmerized. His hand was warm from her touch, his cheek electrified. 

That was her, Beth Greene. His soulmate. Beth was making it harder and harder each time to leave. 

 

Michonne, Glenn, Zach, Sasha, Bob, Tyreese, and Daryl arrived at the abandoned army make-shift camp without a hitch. It was set up outside a super-store. Music blasted in the background; they had hooked up a boom box to distract the wall of walkers that had lined the fences of the fenced camp when they stumbled across it initially. It had worked. No walkers were hanging on the fences this time.

Daryl banged on glass next to the door, waiting for walkers to come forward so they could take them out one by one. Zach was a few feet away, leaning on the concrete wall of the store.

“So,” Zach said, and Daryl wanted to sigh- he wasn’t in the mood for a light conversation with this kid. “What’s the deal with Beth?”

Daryl was stiff, turning his head towards him. “Whatcha mean, ‘what deal?’” He wanted to snap at the kid. Tell him to lay off, stop trying to get with his girl. Luckily, Michonne was just in earshot.

“Beth’s ‘deal.’” Michonne mumbled, shaking her head. “Either you are blind or blissfully ignorant…” 

“Naw, I mean-,” Zach smirked, shaking his head. “She’s a sweet thing. You know what they say, lady in the street, freak in the shee-“

Before Zach could finish the last word, his mouth was clamped shut. Daryl had shot up and gotten right in his face, causing Zach to stumble back. 

“You watch how you talk about her, kid,” His snapped, but before he could continue any rest of what he wanted to say to Zach, the walkers from inside the store started slamming on the glass.

Daryl distanced himself quickly, taking out the three walkers in a row he could as the others followed suit. Once the store was clear, they carefully searched for supplies. Michonne had been trailing behind Daryl for a bit. 

“Daryl,” She muttered quietly. “You alright?”

“M’fine,” the man snapped, maybe too fast, and then looked back at Michonne. “Sorry,” he said immediately after. She didn’t deserve any attitude. 

“He was stupid to ask that. Stupid to think about it. Don’t let him get to you.” She said before going off on her own a few isles away.

Daryl tried to take her words to heart, but he hated the idea of anyone thinking of Beth like that. It also stirred the reoccurring thought he had been having lately about her, and now wasn’t the time he needed to be thinking about anything so distracting.

There were a lot of times when he and Beth were together that he’d thought about making some sort of move. But it wasn’t as if Daryl was the definition of smooth. He felt too awkward. No matter how comfortable he was with Beth, he didn’t want to overstep himself with her. Daryl didn’t know, or really think, that she’d ever want to be with him like that. 

Some nights, when he was alone out hunting, he would think about her, and feel wrong thinking about Beth’s body. In his mind, even though she was his soulmate, he didn’t think he had permission to fantasize about taking her clothes off and laying her down, kissing down her neck, her chest, her stomach… 

She was too good for him, and he had no idea why destiny made Beth his.

 

Things ended up going very wrong at the store. Bob had knocked down a shelf of alcohol, causing a commotion, and then walkers started falling from the ceiling. It turned out that there was a helicopter on the roof, slowly breaking through the ceiling, and they lost Zach.

And when it came down to it, it was because of Bob. Bob, instead of looking for anything useful for the group, had a bottle of booze in his bag. Daryl was more than furious, to say the least. A part of him wondered why he bothered saving him at all. He got that kid killed. All for a bottle of booze. 

Just because he didn’t like how Zach was speaking about Beth… It didn’t mean he deserved to die. 

When they were back at the prison, Daryl spoke to no one. He wanted to beat the fuck out of Bob, wanted to scream. Wanted a god damned cigarette, but he didn’t have any more.

He went straight to Beth.

 

Beth was scribbling in her journal when she felt Daryl enter the building. She kept writing, smile on her face. But when he approached her cell, standing in the door, she felt something was wrong.

“What is it?”

“Zach.”

“Is he dead?” 

Daryl said nothing.

“Okay.” She sat still for a moment. She looked at the cheesy “X Days Without An Accident” and changed the thirty to a zero. 

Daryl didn’t approach her. “What is it?” She asked. He shook his head. 

She made her way to him. “I don’t cry anymore, Daryl. I’m just… Glad I got to know him, you know?”

“Me too.”

“Are you okay?”

“Just tired of losin’ people… That’s all.” She closed the gap, wrapping her arms around him. He was very hesitant to hold her back. 

Daryl felt heavy guilt in his chest. The last thoughts he had about the kid was beating the fuck out of him for asking a stupid, stupid question that stupid teenage boys ask. 

“I’m glad I didn’t say goodbye to him,” She said, quietly. “I hate goodbyes.”

“Me, too.” Daryl agreed.

Beth pulled herself away, hands still on his sides. “Come to bed?” 

Daryl nodded. Beth smiled a sad smile at him. She guided his body into her cell, and her hands went to his vest, pulling it off him. He helped by shrugging it off the rest of the way.

He started unlacing his boots as Beth cleared her bed of her pen and journal. She took off the shawl she was wearing, folding it neatly and placing it on her dresser. He stood there, watching her, his bad thoughts melting away. 

Daryl was brought back to the thoughts he had at the store earlier. Part of him wanted to go to her, kiss her deeply. Run his hands down her back and sides, tug up her soft tank top, feel her skin against his hands.

Beth noticed him staring. She stared right back, taking a step forward towards him. Daryl’s throat seemed to close, he couldn’t say what he wanted to say. The three words that have been itching to flow off his tongue for so many months. Of course, Beth beat him to the punch.

“I love you, Daryl.” She murmured, taking is hand and walking back towards the bed. He followed, his face hot, but he didn’t take his eyes off her. 

She stopped before doing their usual routine of getting into bed first, towards the wall. She slept on the inside, he on the outside. It was a comforting thought, something as simple as Daryl having is own spot in Beth’s bed.

“Come here,” she whispered, and he didn’t hesitate. Beth’s hands reached up, placing one hand to cup his neck, the other knotting itself in his hair. She made the first move, guiding his head down to hers.

He couldn’t breathe. He felt so alive in this moment, so much shock in his system, he burned to her touch, he wanted more, and she gave it to him. Beth looked into his eyes before taking the plunge. Her soft pink lips pressed against his, soft at first, slowly getting deeper. His hands somehow ended up on her sides, caressing them up and down as he had imagined, kissing her back deeply. 

He was alive. She made him feel so alive, and he could feel it in her, too. Their hearts were beating fast, so fast he could hear her heartbeat in his own ears. 

He didn’t know how they made it onto the bed without dropping the kiss, but they were tangled in each other. Beth made small noises of satisfaction, and Daryl tried desperately tried to muffle his own pleasure. He didn’t want to make too much noise, he didn’t want anyone to hear this private, perfect moment. 

When the two finally pulled apart after a lifetime, Daryl rested his forehead against Beth’s. They both were breathing heavily, hearts still pounding, each of them speechless. They held each other, enamored in the moment, holding each other close until they both drifted to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (( i couldn't stop writing all night and im really unhappy with this chapter but it needed to happen, i'm sorry there are so many sort=of time jumps, just bare with me, we're gettin' to the real good shit soon ))

Waking up the next morning was blissful. Daryl couldn’t believe that they had kissed. Something so simple being so important. Beth woke up first. She tried her best not to shift too much, knowing how light of a sleeper Daryl always has been, but with no success, his eyes fluttered open, too.

“Mornin,” She mumbled sleepily, snuggling into Daryl. He grumbled in response, rubbing his eyes for a moment before tensing up. He remembered what happened last night, and now he wasn’t sure how to react.

“Are you okay?” Beth asked, feeling his heart rapidly beating. He looked over at her, into her beautiful blue eyes, and let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“’M good,” he told her, smiling. Any fears he had for the few moments as he woke up were gone when he looked at her.

“Me, too.” She told him, resting herself on his chest. She propped herself up on chest just as Rick’s timer went off. The day had begun, and she was on Judith duty. She sighed, smiling at him. “Gotta get up, we got jobs to do,” she murmured. They both got out of bed to dress themselves. 

Beth saw Rick walk by to get to Carl’s bunk, Judith in his arms. He paused for just a moment, a smirk on his face. She flushed red. It was one thing to be alone with Daryl, it was still something new to her that other people knew the relationship was getting more intimate.

Daryl was dressed quickly while Beth was still getting her boots on. “I’ll see you later?” She asked, but it wasn’t a question. He nodded, starting to leave. “Wait!” She said, a louder than she meant, but he stopped. She finished putting on her other boot and bolted at him, wrapping her arms around him tight.

“Last night was wonderful,” She murmured into his chest. He grunted in agreement, unable to find any words to do his own thoughts justice. “Can I kiss you again?” She asked quietly, looking up at him.

Without a second thought, he pressed his lips to hers, feeling the electricity between them. It was breathtaking. She wondered if it would always be this blissful—and from what she knew about soulmates, every kiss was like the first time.

It didn’t last as long, but it was just as meaningful. “Have a good day, a’right?” He said quietly afterword. 

“You, too,” she said, letting him leave. She took a few deep breaths, smiling, trying to regain herself before meeting up with Rick. 

“Good morning,” Rick said with a knowing smile. She flushed again as she took the baby into her arms.

“Hey now, no need to be embarrassed.” Rick told her easily. His smile and words were genuine. “You know,” he said quietly, “You’re good for him. He’s grown a lot since you two have gotten together. Never would’a expected it from the man I met back in Atlanta,” 

“You think?” Beth asked, the memories of the first-time meeting Daryl were hazy with the buzzing electricity she felt those first times they encountered each other at her family’s barn.

Rick wrapped an arm around the blonde, giving her a squeeze. “Absolutely. It’s nice to see him like this. And, you.” And on that note, he gave Beth a kiss on the forehead, cooed a goodbye to his daughter and left for the fields. 

Beth took Judith over to her play pen set in her cell, sat her in her bouncer chair and grabbed the baby’s breakfast. She was eating solid baby food, now, and she especially liked the mushy peaches. 

She sat on the floor, playing with Judith, singing to her, until gun shots started ringing out nearby. Her heart stopped. She grabbed Judith, following the plan—if anything where to happen, she was to get out of the prison, with Judith, to somewhere safe until things were okay. 

Beth made her focus on getting away from the prison, but as she was heading out the doors, Maggie and an injured Michonne made their way in.

“What’s going on?” Beth asked frantically, the back of her mind feeling her body for soul marks. Nothing had happened.

“Michonne’s leg needs to be patched up,” Maggie told her sister quickly, “Walkers in block ‘D’. Can you take care of Michonne?”

“Of-of course!” Beth stuttered, “Here, sit down, let me go put Judith in her play pen,” She did as she said, and made her way back to Michonne. 

“Did you see anything?” Beth asked as she wrapped Michonne’s ankle. She worried for Daryl and how he was handling this.

“They just started taking out the dead.” 

“I don’t know who yet. I don’t want to,

I’m glad you came back safe.” In the corner of Beth’s little room, playing with red solo cups. She was giggling.

“I was stupid. So stupid. When I fell on my ass, they should’ve just left me out there.” Michonne bitterly told Beth.

“Now that’s stupid. We care about you.” Beth told the older woman, surprised by her words.

“They could’ve gotten hurt.” Michonne retorted, and Beth stopped wrapping her ankle for a moment to look Michonne in the eyes. 

“When you care about people… Hurt is kinda part of the package.” Beth said. She went on, commenting on if there were any children, wondering aloud what they would call a parent who lost a child. She finished up, just in time for Judith started crying. Michonne seemed irritated by the crying, so Beth picked the little one and bounced the baby in her arms. 

Carl and Carol were in the cell block, now, making crosses. Beth couldn’t help but let her heart hurt a little. She didn’t cry anymore, but… This was a major loss for their community. All the poor souls.

In her own cell, she overheard Carol asking Carl about her little lessons in the library on how to protect themselves. She stayed quite until they left.

She paced back and forth, rocking Judith in the cell block, singing quietly to keep Judith happy. She paused outside Michonne’s cell. Before much small talk could be made, Judith spit up on Beth. Internally she wanted to scream, this was the second time today she had been spat up on, but she didn’t blame the baby. Judith could probably feel Beth’s anxiety, her nerves, and that’s why she was trying to remain calm and collected by singing. 

“Please, hold her for a second?” Beth begged Michonne, who turned her face and said no. “Please, I’m covered in carrots—” 

Michonne took the baby, holding her out like a foreign object. Beth ran to change her shirt and grabbed a towel to sling on her shoulder in case Judith spit up again. When she returned to the cell, Michonne was holding Judith close, sobbing quietly. She felt wrong watching this… Intimate moment Michonne was having and sat down at one of the concrete tables. 

She hadn’t felt a soul mark all day, nor heard from Daryl, but sometimes no news was good news. She knew he cleared out the cell block with Rick and the others, and was hoping at some point he would stop by to check on her, or at least check in. 

The only word she got, though, was from Maggie. A little update, that the field was overrun by walkers, and that Rick and Carl were going to stay away from Judith for the time being to make sure she didn’t get sick. Beth nodded. As far as Beth new, she wasn’t sick, and it was best to keep it that way.

She just wondered how many other people were going to have to stay away from Beth and Judith, too. 

 

Several days go by without much word from anyone. Beth isn’t allowed to leave quarantine, and she gets small updates from others. Daryl went on a run, with a few others, to go to a veterinary college for medicine. Karen and David murdered and burned in cold blood. Things were going to hell very quickly. 

 

Daryl hadn’t stopped by to say goodbye to Beth this time. He thought it would be selfish to put his feelings above getting life saving antibiotics. He hoped Beth would understand. He knew she would. It still didn’t sit well in his chest.

 

Maggie finally came by. Glenn was sick.

“Maggie?” Beth said through the door of the quarantine. “We don’t get to be upset. We all got jobs to do, that’s what Daddy always says. Daryl and Michonne will get the meds…. And I’ll take care of Judith. Just focus on what you have to do. No matter what happens... We’ll take care of it. We have to.” Beth wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Maggie, or herself.

With Glenn being sick, she wasn’t going to selfishly ask about Daryl. Or whine about missing him. Daryl was going to be okay. He always… He always seemed to find a way to make it out of anything bad, and she prayed and prayed his good luck wouldn’t fall short. 

She prayed for Glenn, for everyone. It was all she could do to pass the time, silently waiting for the horror of a soul mark to turn up on her body. 

 

“Maggie? Daddy’s gone. He left.” 

“I know. Did he tell you where he went?”

“No, but… I know… We all got jobs to do.”

“We’ll deal with it, right?”

“We don’t get to get upset.” Beth recited, tears running down her face.

 

Time had moved much too slowly, and then all at once.

Daryl came back with the group with medicine. People were recovering, quickly, and a relief and hope filled the prison. He hadn’t gone to find Beth yet. He was too angry. 

Rick had pulled him aside when Daryl started asking questions about how Carol was doing. But Carol was gone. She’d be sent off from the prison for murdering Karen and David. He was fighting with Rick, not understanding how he could send away Carol; he couldn’t understand how Carol could murder two innocent people like that.

He hadn’t had a chance to think about Beth, really, until an explosion rattled the prison. The Governor had shown up, and everyone was outside. Beth included.

He wanted to tell her to go back, hide, get anywhere but here, but she stood by Maggie as the Governor brought Hershel and Michonne out, tied up, on their knees. The Governor had taken their people hostage.

The air was thick with tension. Rick left the safety of their field to go confront the Governor closer. 

Daryl started giving out orders quietly, to get to the bus if, or when, things go south. He looked right at Beth and his heart tore into pieces. She was terrified, he could feel it. And he didn’t know what to do to help her. All he could do is hand her a gun. 

Beth stood beside her sister, staring at her Daddy. She was so scared. She thought—she hoped, that all of this fighting with other people was over. It was the walkers, she thought, that were their worst threat anymore, but no. Not this time. 

And then the Governor held Michonne’s sword to her Daddy’s neck. Rick was trying to negotiate, and the sword was lowering and then—  
Then the gun fire started. Beth was screaming, sobbing, shooting, begging. She couldn’t see, all she knew was the hurt in her chest, shooting and shooting at their attackers. Beth had never wanted to harm another person before until now. And watching the Governor… Hack, hack, hack her fathers head off, she wanted to puke, but all she could do was cry and shoot. 

Beth stayed by Maggie’s side until she left to find Glenn. Beth’s job was getting people on the bus. Her body was numb. There was no time to think, to feel, not even a soul mark could get through her right then and there.

She helped as many people onto the bus as she could, before she realized she needed to get Judith. Judith! The one person she was responsible for, she had to get her, get the baby, get the baby—but she couldn’t find her. She ran and ran, and felt Daryl, saw Daryl.

“I was tryna find the kids to get them on the bus-!” 

“We gotta go, Beth. We gotta go.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth needs a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rough to write, because this part, from the epsiode "Still" has such emotional arks for the both of them. I wrote it a little too close to canon, and mostly this is a filler til the next part of the story! I didn't want to jump ahead through these scenes, so i really apologize for how much I borrowed and how little I added--i wanted to quickly move towards the next chapter! I am working on chapter 13 right now, and will try to have it up by the end of the week at latest. So much is to come with this and I am excited for all of you to read it. 
> 
> I am so so glad to everyone who is following this and leaving kind comments, it means so much to me! Thank you all for being so patient as I slowly work through each chapter. I love you all ::)

Beth and Daryl had been running for God knows how long through the forest without stopping. They were both in shock, their fight or flight had turned strictly into flight, adrenaline pumping in both of their systems.

By the time is was nightfall, they stopped an abandoned car. The windows were busted, and the trunk was ajar. Daryl had to think quick. 

The sound of walkers surrounded them, and he moved fast, opening the trunk the rest of the way. “Come on,” he said urgently, and Beth obliged immediately, climbing into the trunk, tucking herself away. Her eyes were wild, looking every which way as Daryl climbed in next to her.   
Daryl felt around the floor of the trunk, finding nothing to tie the trunk shut; he used his own bandana to keep it closed. About an inch or so of the trunk was ajar, enough for them to see out into the pitch-black night.

Beth reached out, touching Daryl. They were both incredibly tense. They didn’t speak. It was a long night in the trunk of that car, breathing slow and steady to not draw any attention to the walkers. It had been raining, thundering, walkers beating against everything.

Beth was scared. She was scared. Daryl held his bow up, ready to shoot anything that got in his way.

Beth wasn’t sure when the rain stopped. But as morning came, she was exhausted, broken, and light trickled in through the small gap. She unwrapped the bandana and climbed out silently. 

Daryl didn’t speak, either. 

Instead, both began ransacking the car of anything useful. They looted it clean, taking things to make an MacGyer-ed alarm at a camp, like they had done last winter. Get some wire, or rope, and tie cans, anything metal that would make noise if anything crossed into the small camp to let them know they weren’t alone.

Beth followed behind Daryl wordlessly. She followed him, not having a clue what to do. She always held her knife. Once they scouted out a spot in the forest, no walkers for a few miles, they set up a small camp. Daryl didn’t say anything when he left to go hunt, but Beth knew.

Her heart ached, but she had a job to do. She set up the perimeter of the camp with noisy objects and sat down. She wanted cry. She wanted Daryl to hold her, and she wanted to cry. But instead, she started digging a hole and filled it with nearby twigs and branches she found within reach.

When looting the car earlier that morning, she took one of the broken headlight pieces and a driver side mirror. She remembered how the others, last winter, had made the fires. She aimed the mirror to reflect the sun, shining the beam of light through the glass of the headlight. Luckily, after a few moments, the twigs began smoking. She almost felt relieved that it worked.

Daryl had come back with small success; only managing to capture a rattle snake. It was better than nothing, and enough for the two of them. 

Beth watched for across the camp as he skinned it, and he wordlessly cooked it over her small fire. He handed her a chunk of the now charred snake, and when their hands brushed, that electricity was still there—but neither of them were sure how to act on it. 

When Beth finished drinking, she finally spoke. “I need a drink.” Daryl tossed a plastic water bottle her way. “No, I mean a real drink. As in alcohol.” Daryl didn’t say anything. “I’ve never had one. ‘Cause of… dad. But, he’s not… exactly around anymore, so…” She felt awkward saying that. “I thought we could go find some.”

Daryl blatantly ignored her. 

“Well, enjoy your snake jerky.” She muttered, standing up and grabbing her knife. She made off to leave the camp, wandering ways through the woods. Her heart hurt. “Jerk.” She whispered, biting her lips and clamping her eyes shut as to not cry.

That’s when she heard a walker moving her way. She ducked behind a tree, searching for something, anything to distract. A rock was the best she had, and she tossed it. It managed to distract them well enough, but she still had her knife ready.

The snap of a twig made her twirl around, and there was Daryl. He wordlessly turned, and Beth didn’t know what to do but follow him.

“I think we made it away… I’m pretty sure we gotta go that to find the booze.” Daryl stepped over a wire, while Beth stumbled into the camps make shift alarm. “What the hell? You brought me back! I’m not staying in this suck ass camp!” She flipped him off. She was so angry all the sudden, so angry at Daryl. 

He hadn’t said a goddamn word since they left the prison. She tried, and tried, and tried to make conversation. She was so goddamn angry, she turned to leave again, but a rough hand yanked on her arm, pulling her back towards him. 

The roughness of Daryl pulling her in took her by surprise. She knew he was strong, but… It shocked her that he would use his strength against her. 

“Hey!” He barked. “You had your fun.” She ripped her arm away, trying not to cry. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you feel anythin’? Yeah, you think everything’s screwed—I guess that’s a feeling. You want to spend the rest of our lives starin’ into a fire and eating mud snakes? Screw that! We might as well do somethin!” She was so angry, and she didn’t know what to do with all of it. Daryl said nothing. 

“I can take care of myself, and I’m gonna get a damn drink.” Beth concluded, storming away. This time, Daryl didn’t grab her. Instead, he looked around and followed her.

 

Daryl followed Beth through and out the forest without a word. He didn’t know what to say. He was so upset with himself, he was ashamed to be around her. He hadn’t done a thing back there, at the prison. He didn’t do anything but sit there and watch it all happen. 

They found a golf course, Beth making a comment about golfers liking to drink, but it was like he was underwater, he could barely hear her. He just looked around, spotting walkers. She kept moving, moving towards the building not far from them, and he followed. 

There was a dead walker outside the door of the country club across the field. Daryl checked the dead body, only finding use out of the golf club. Beth rattled the doors, locked, of course—as a small herd of walkers were slowing struggling across the field towards them. 

They walked around the side of club, looking for another entrance. Luckily, there was a side door to the club, and Daryl raised his finger to his lips with a small “Shh,” while opening the door. “C’mon,”

The entire room they arrived in was trashed. Walkers inside, hanging from nooses. Beth crinkled her nose at the smell. The people who were hiding in the country club must have killed themselves in hopes of avoiding being torn apart by walkers, unknowingly turning themselves.

Daryl and Beth kept alert, scanning for anything useful. These hanging walkers wouldn’t be a threat, easily taken down, but they couldn’t be sure how many others were in the building.

Picking up a flashlight off the floor, Daryl shined it around the room, scanning the walker’s bodies. They snarled and reached hopelessly at the two of them. Piles of dead bodies were littered across the floor. It was something all too familiar at this point, seeing piles of bodies. Most of them hadn’t turned, obvious head wounds on many of them. 

Beth, slowly trailing behind, scanning a nearby table to find a smaller flashlight. She shined it herself on the table, and the sparkle of a spoon caught her eye. She didn’t know why, but she picked it up. It was engraved: “THE CAPITOL—WASHINGTON D.C.” She stowed it in her pocket. 

Daryl had taken to scavenging on the floor, shoving stacks of money, jewelry, anything. 

“Why are you keeping all that stuff?” She asked quietly, not understanding. All that meant nothing now. Money meant nothing. Not anymore. 

He just looked at her, no answer. Without hesitation, walkers snarling came nearby from a glass door. Daryl scanned, grabbing Beth’s arm and they dove into the next room. He slammed and locked the door behind them.

It was dark and the echo of water dripping in a sink was the only noise in the room. They were in the kitchen. Beth pulled her knife as she examined one half of the kitchen for booze, leaving Daryl to search the other side. 

Her breathing was heavy. It was musty inside, the air reeked of the dead and mold. Inside a closet of the kitchen, she saw a bottle of wine at the top of a shelf. She tried to be agile, climbing up a peg to grab it. She smiled a bit, glad she had found what she needed, and a bit too hastily went to show Daryl her find. 

A walker appeared out of nowhere, shocking Beth. She pushed it back, smashing the wine bottle out of muscle memory at the walker, holding him just out of reach of getting her. Beth struggled as she jammed over and over the broken glass into the walker’s face. When she had her chance, she pushed the dead into the wall and impaled her knife into its forehead.

She hadn’t noticed Daryl a few feet away from her, watching her. She wondered how long he had been there, watching her struggle. She breathed heavily, her eyes narrowing. “Thanks for the help.”

“You said you could take care of yourself.” He said, his voice rough, hoarse. “You did.”

Beth tried to even her heavy breathing, looking around with her flashlight one last time. She didn’t have time to react to the lined corpses on the floor. She wanted to lay down, stop, mourn, cry for the dead. But now wasn’t the time. Beth was determined to get a drink, at the least. She had dragged Daryl away from camp, and her stomach was upset with how they were speaking to each other.

There was heavy tension between the two of them: tension that hadn’t been felt since they met, or when he had left the prison back when he reunited with his brother, Merle. She ached for his touch, the electricity of a simple brush on arm, something, anything. 

Beth didn’t want to talk about what happened back at the prison. Not yet. She was certain Daryl didn’t, either, because he hadn’t said much at all since the day they escaped together. It hurt, the dense silence between the two. Even if she tried to ignite small talk, all he would do was grunt or give her a side-eyed glance. It hurt. Her soul ached. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Not any of it.

She had imagined that they would be able to live in the prison, with everyone, for a good while. Make it a real home, like it had been over the past several months. Everything was ruined now, and she wanted to cry and cry and cry.

Now wasn’t the time, she thought to herself again. She followed Daryl, scanning the next room. It was the gift shop. Guided by her flashlight, she found a rack of untouched yellow polo shirts. She grabbed one, wondering how long it had been since she had been able to bathe or have a clean change of clothes since everything went to hell at the prison. She changed quickly and quietly into the polo, grabbing a soft, cotton sweater next to it. 

A simple change of her shirt made her feel refreshed. It wasn’t much, but a clean shirt was a small victory.

Another body was before them, long dead. A piece of paper written in blood was taped to the skeleton: “RICH BITCH.” 

“Help me take her down.” Beth said, not sure if she was asking.

“Don’t matter. She’s dead,” Daryl grunted.

“It does matter.” Beth argued. 

Daryl hesitantly stood up, grabbing a kitchen table cloth he had looted, (he had hopes of using it at their next camp,) covering the dead women. “Here.” 

The time inside the country club was dragging on. They kept moving. A grandfather clock stood at the end of the hallway, and suddenly the bell inside chirped loudly, indicating the time. 6PM. 

Walkers awakened echoed once more, and Beth stood back as Daryl took each one out with relative ease. He used anything he could in the room to attack them. He picked up a golf club, bashing the last walker in the room over and over until he slammed it into his head. Blood splattered, covering Beth in walker blood over her newly worn white sweater. She ripped it off, trying not to barge away angrily as they entered the next room.

He was angry, Beth could feel it. She was too. She felt a lot of things right now, her mind was cluttered and confused. She felt numb to the point of not caring while also overwhelmed with nothing but grief. 

The last room was the bar. “We made it,” She said quietly. Finally, she could get a drink. She looked back at Daryl, who was avoiding her gaze. “I know you think this is stupid. And it probably is… But I don’t care. All I wanted to do today was lay down and cry, but we don’t get to do that.” She was finally speaking to him about her feelings. She had carried them deep inside her for days.

She pursed her lips, not even hesitating on her next comment. “So… beat up on walkers if that makes you feel better. I need to do this.”

Again, Daryl said nothing. Instead, he once again started looting up money and jewelry. Beth went behind the bar, stepping carefully over broken glass. There were many half-full, never finished drinks, but lots of smashed bottled and sticky liquor spilt on the floor.

Daryl smashed the glass on a picture on the wall, and Beth asked, irritated, if he needed to do that. 

“No,” he replied. “Did you have your drink yet?”

“No,” Beth muttered, looking back at the bar. “but I found this. Peach schnapps. Is it good?”

“No.” Daryl said again. She was getting tired of the one-worded answers. 

“Well, it’s the only thing left.” She grabbed an almost clean cup, wiping it out, starting to pour the schnapps into a cup. 

She almost jumped out of her seat as Daryl started messing around with a dart-board on the wall. He threw the darts, each one making a loud clank. Beth shut her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

“Who needs a glass?” She stared at the bottle, her hand fiddling with the lid. The longer she looked at it, the more her eyes welled with tears. Why was she crying, now? She had found what she wanted. 

But this isn’t what she wanted at the same time. She wanted to be comforted, she wanted time to stop for just a moment, she wanted to break down, she wanted to be held, she wanted to be shown with the compassion she knew Daryl could be giving her. She sniffled before a sob erupted from her throat, tears starting to pour as Daryl hit one last dart.

Daryl was beside her then, grabbing the peach schnapps and smashing the bottle on the ground. Beth stood up straight, shocked by the action. Daryl took a few steps away before looking back at her.

“Ain’t gonna have your first drink be no damned peach schnapps.” He grabbed his bow and opened the door. “Come on,” he said, a little lighter with his tone.

 

Beth had followed him wordless out, only beginning to talk again long into their journey in the woods. She attempted more small talk. It didn’t work. 

They approached a shabby looking house that could’ve easily been a shack out here in the middle of the woods.

“I found this place with Michonne.” 

“I was expecting a liquor store,” She mumbled, but Daryl shook his head.

“No, this is better.” 

Beside the house was an actual wooden shack. Daryl wasted no time entering and Beth was right behind him as he began to pick up a carton that was full of mason jars and clear liquid. 

“What’s that?” Beth asked as he handed it to her.

“Moonshine.” Beth almost smiled. He had found her a drink. She was excited and nervous all at once as they entered the house.

It was destroyed, a musky smell lingered, and it was obviously ransacked. But Daryl seemed to know exactly what he was doing, making his way and grabbing a seemingly clean cup to pour the moonshine in.

“Alright,” he said. “That’s a real first drink right there.” She looked up at him, seeing that a small smirk on his face. Her heart beat fast at the glimpse of the man he really was shown through.

She remembered something her Daddy had said before about moonshine, hesitating to take the sip. 

“What’s the matter?” Daryl asked, his voice slowly turning back into her Daryl.

“Nothin’, it’s just—my dad always said bad moonshine can make you go blind.” She felt silly saying it afterword. 

“Ain’t nothin’ worth seeing out there anymore anyway,” Daryl muttered, and with that, she brought the glass to her lips and took a big gulp.

She didn’t expect it to burn as much as it did, squinting her eyes and crinkling her nose at the taste. 

“That’s the most disgusting thing I ever tasted,” she said, almost laughing. But she took another drink. “Second rounds better.” She grabbed at the mason jar of moonshine, but Daryl stopped her.

“Slow down,” he warned, but she smiled up at him.

“This one’s for you.” 

“No, I’m good.” 

“Why?”

“Someone’s gotta keep watch,” Daryl reminded her. 

Beth wanted to groan. “So, what. You’re like my chaperone now?” She felt a bit offended. This was nothing like she imagined her first drink was going to be. She, at the least, hoped Daryl would join her in her tiny escapade. 

“Just drink lotsa water.” He grumbled, back to being irritable. She was getting tired of this back and forth. This wasn’t right in her heart. His attitude was draining her. 

“Yes, Mr. Dixon,” she snarked back in response. He made no word of her comment.

Daryl began fortifying the windows with sheets while Beth began looking through the house, feeling the effects of the alcohol already. It warmed her cheeks, and she was feeling less tense. She laughed as she found a ceramic pink bra filled to the brim with cigarette butts.

She picked it up, heavier than it appear, and placed it in front of her. “Who would walk into a store and come out with this?” She asked, giggling.

“My dad, that’s who.” Daryl said as he looked at the find. “He’s a dumbass. He’d set those up on top of the TV set and use them as target practice,” he admitted.

Beth looked up, appalled. “He would shoot things inside the house?”

“It was just a bunch of junk anyway.” He dismissed quickly. That’s how I knew what this place was,” He continued, “That shed out there? My dad had a place just like this. You got your Dumpster chair. That’s for sitting in your drawers all summer drinking,

Got your fancy buckets,” He pointed at a tin vase. “That’s for spittin’ chaw in after your old lady tells you to stop smoking.” He was pacing and shaking his head at this point. Beth was astonished at these details. 

“You got your—your internet,” he muttered, picking up a flimsy old newspaper. 

A walker cried outside the window. “It’s just one of ‘em.” He told her before Beth could open her mouth.

“Should we get it?” 

“If he keeps making too much noise, yeah.” 

“Well, if we’re gonna be trapped again, we might as well make the best of it,” Beth picked up a mason jar and held it up towards Daryl. “Unless you’re too busy chaperoning, Mr. Dixon.” 

He smirked again. “Hell, might as well make the best of it.” He grabbed the jar, touching her fingers for a split second. His hand lingered as they both felt that familiar, yet somehow foreign spark shot up each of their spines. 

Daryl sat in the recliner, the chair creaking as it rocked. “Home, sweet home.” He said as a cheers. They both took a drink. 

The third gulp wasn’t anyway as gross as the first or second. Beth was buzzing inside, warm, fuzzy, and her face didn’t shrink up with disgust this time as she swallowed.

 

“Let’s play a game.” Beth said. The tension between the two of them was dwindling down, and Daryl was remembering the days where he and Merle would drink til morning. Daryl grunted. They were sitting across from each other at a side table.

“So first, I say something I’ve never done and if you have done it, you drink, and if you haven’t, I drink. Then we switch” Daryl wasn’t aware of any of this. “You really never heard of this game?”

“I never needed a game to get lit before.” He had a million reasons why he’d get lit before this. Dealing with his dad, Merle, conflicting feelings on how he felt about his shitty life. But never for fun to play a game.

“Wait, are we starting?” 

“How do you know this game?” Daryl was curious, if she hadn’t ever drunk before, where’d she know this game from?”

“My friends played it.” She responded as if it was obvious. “I watched.

“Okay, I’ll start. I’ve never… Shot a crossbow. So, now you drink.” 

“Ain’t much of a game.” He thought aloud, but he brought the mason jar to his lips.

“That was just a warm-up! Now you go.” Beth explained, and Daryl glanced around.

“I dunno,” He couldn’t think of anything appropriate to comment on in front of Beth, knowing that there was surely many, many things he had done that she’d never dream of doing in his past life.

There was a warm fuzz between the two of them at this moment. Both one their way to being more than tipsy, and he wanted to hold her and comfort her. He didn’t know how to back at the country club, when she was crying over the schnapps. In his own way, leading her to this all too familiar type of home where there was moonshine, was his way of trying to comfort her. And it seems to be working—she was smiling at him, trying to ease the tension, and it was working so far. Daryl could even feel that she was getting drunk faster than he was, intoxicating himself in her familiar vibes along with the alcohol he was feeling.

“Just… Say the first thing that pops into your head.” Beth prompted.

“I’ve never been out of Georgia.” He admitted to her. 

“Really? Okay, good one.” She took a drink, pondering allowed for her question. “I’ve never… Been drunk and done somethin’ I regretted.”

Daryl was hesitant to pick up the mason jar, but he did. “I’ve done a lot of things.” He wasn’t proud of himself, thinking back before the turn. He did awful, terrible things with Merle on their ‘adventures.’ 

“Your turn.” Beth reminded him, pulling him out of his hazy thoughts.

“I’ve never been on vacation.” When would he ever had the time? His drunk dad, his neglectful mother—he never would have that sort of opportunity. 

“What about camping?” Beth asked, tilting her head a bit. Her pony tail was messy. Strands of hair were falling in her face, and he wanted to fix it for her, to tuck it behind her ears and caress her cheek. Even with the liquor, he was still too shy to make that sort of move. 

“No. That was just somethin’ I had to learn, to hunt.”

“Your dad teach you?” Beth asked, and he grunted in response. Daryl hadn’t ever divulged this much personal information about his past with anyone in his new family. It was relevant anymore. 

But this was his soulmate. There was an odd, scary comfort in confiding these parts of himself that he’s hidden over the last year and a half.

Beth nodded, taking her drink. “Okay. I’ve never… been in jail. I mean, as a prisoner.” 

Daryl felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. He stared at her, hurt by the comment that she would—that she would think those sorts of things about him in his past. “Is that what you think of me?” He asked quietly, his voice low.

“I didn’t mean anything serious,” Beth quickly said, seeming to realize that was the wrong thing to suggest. “I just thought, you know, like, the drunk tank. Even my dad got locked up for that back in the day.” 

“Drink up,” Daryl told her, motioning his arm forward. He was more than little upset, angry, even. 

Part of the reason he didn’t want to drink, to “chaperon” Beth, was because he wasn’t always a friendly drunk. Daryl still held a deep well of anger inside him, something he still was learning to control. Especially today, he couldn’t control it, when he took out his frustration by beating a walker with a golf club a little too long before putting it down.

“It’s your turn now.”

He stood up, shaking his head. “I’m gonna take a piss.” He muttered, stomping through the house, carelessly bumping into the kitchen table and knocking down a mason jar. It hit the floor with a loud shatter.

“You have to be quiet,” Beth reminded him urgently.

Daryl didn’t care, raising his voice. “I can’t hear you! I’m takin’ a piss!” He unzipped his pants and peed into the dirty sink.

“Daryl! Don’t talk so loud!”

“What, you my chaperon now?” He asked, his voice shrill. Daryl knew he was wrong in acting this way, but his drunken state made it hard to be rational. 

“Oh wait, it’s my turn now. I’ve never, uh! Never eaten frozen yogurt. Never had a pet pony! Never got nothin’ from Santa Claus!” He slammed he fist into the table, hard. “Never relied on anyone for protection before! Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever relied on anyone for anything!” 

“Daryl—”

“Never sang out in front of a big group out in public! Like everything was fun! Like everything was a big game!

“I sure as hell never cut my wrists lookin’ for attention!” That, he realized, was much too far. Beth looked up at him with wide, appalled eyes. 

He was scaring her. He could feel it, and he was unleashing a monster inside him and couldn’t control it.

Outside, the walker they ignored started growling. “Oh, sounds like our friend out there is tryna call all of his buddies!”

“Daryl, shut up!” Beth hissed. Daryl grabbed his crossbow

“You never shot a crossbow before?! I’m gonna teach you right now.” He barged for her, grabbing her arm roughly, dragging her outside. “Come one! It’s gonna be fun!” He kicked the door open, dragging her still despite her cries to stop.

“Dumbass,” He barked at the dead, shooting a single arrow at the walker to pin it to the house. “Come here, dumbass!”

“You want to shoot?” He snapped, wrapping his arm around Beth, holding her to his chest. The fear inside her was getting more and more intense. He was out of control now.

“I don’t—I don’t know how!”

“C’mon, it’s easy!” He was yelling in her ear. “Right corner!” He let loose another arrow, pinning the walker’s shoulder.

“We—we can practice later!”

“C’mon, it’s fun.” Daryl teased angrily. Beth kept protesting, but he couldn’t hear her. His ears were ringing, her voice sounded as if he was underwater. He backed off for just a moment to reload the bow before grabbing her roughly again around her chest. Beth was panting, trying to squirm away, and he let her go to approach the pinned walker. He didn’t know what he was saying at this point, nonsense flew out of his mouth at a mile a minute, loud and unhinged.

Beth ran up from behind, pulling her knife and thrusting it in the walker’s dead. Daryl didn’t hesitate to berate her. “I was havin’ fun!”

“No, you were being a jackass!” She shouted back at him. “If anyone found my dad—”

“Don’t! That ain’t remotely the same!” All his guilt was rising his throat.

“Killing them is not supposed to be fun!” 

“What do you want from me, girl?! Huh?” He was in her face while she backed up, the look in her eyes wild, a look on her face he hadn’t seen before.

“I want to stop actin’ like you don’t give a crap about anythin’!” Beth was in his face now, too. “Like nothing we meant through matters, like! Like none of the people we lost meant anything to you! Like you and I, everythin’ the past year together meant nothin’ to you!” Tears were streaming down her face. “It’s bullshit!”

Daryl felt sick to his stomach. He never meant to make her feel this way. He didn’t want this to happen. His heart almost stopped in his chest. “Is that what you think?”

She shook her head, tears falling. “That’s what I know.” 

“You don’t know nothin’.” Daryl was softer spoken now. The next words she spoke were still muffled, she spoke about how she wasn’t like the rest of the women in their now lost family. He felt as if he was out of his body, watching from the sidelines.

“You don’t get to treat me like crap just because you’re—you’re afraid!” 

He stepped forward, eyes narrowed. Daryl lied right to Beth’s face. “I ain’t afraid of nothin’.” 

They stared at each other for a few moments, before Beth began reminiscing on when they first met. Recalling when Sophia, Carol’s poor daughter, who he tracked the entire forest for to save, came out of the barn, along with her mother, and her friends and family. 

“I remember. You were like me. And now, /God forbid/ you ever let anybody get to close. It’s been a year, Daryl, and and you still are keepin’ me at arm’s length!” 

“Too close, huh? You know all about that! You lost a boyfriend and your dad! Your whole family’s gone! All you can do is just go out lookin’ for hooch like some dumb college bitch!”

Everything started to spill out. He ranted, raged over the fact that they lost everything, everyone, and were never going to see their family again. How she’d never see her sister again.

“Daryl, just stop!” 

“No!” He screamed, turning around. His voice began to crack as he started to admit out loud his guilt. That he didn’t look hard enough, he didn’t keep looking for the Governor to stop them from attacking the prison. That he couldn’t save Hershel. That he gave up, and it was all his fault. He was crying now, he couldn’t stop. 

Beth’s frame slammed into his back, her arms tightly wrapping around his chest, holding him tight. She buried her face into his vest as he cried, and she held him, comforted him before leading him back inside.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Beth run across a spotless funeral home and stay for a few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((( Hello, my lovelies. I have been meaning to post this for a while, but life catches up with me. I am so grateful for everyone who is still following this story! I can't wait to get the next chapter up already for you all. xoxox teamemmykinney )))

They spent the rest of their evening, sipping bits of moonshine here and there, trying to take bigger drinks of water when they remembered to. Daryl knew he was going to feel a hell of a hangover in the morning, and he hoped that Beth was still in a stage where alcohol wasn’t going to affect her much tomorrow, maybe just a small headache.

They sat next to each other on the porch when the sun began to set. They didn’t speak much—they didn’t have to. The tension between them had slipped away with the booze and the confession of Daryl’s guilt.

Beth had been gently comforting him all night. She held his hand, traced up and down his arms with her slender fingers, causing goosebumps and flares of electricity so strong the hair stood on the back of his neck. He let himself close his eyes every now and then, soaking in her soft caress. At some point, Daryl found himself lying on his back, head in Beth’s lap. She played with his hair, teasing him softly about how he needed a haircut.

These moments they were spending together made the world around them melt away. Beth hummed quietly, a song he wasn’t familiar with, and he’d look up at her and catch her smiling softly down at him. One hand was gently placed on his chest, feeling his heart beat. Daryl’s heart sped up each time he looked at her, his head was almost spinning each time their eyes met, and it wasn’t just the alcohol. If he wasn’t already beat red in the face from the moonshine, he would’ve been just knowing that Beth could tell how rapidly his heart pounded in his chest.

This is what it was like to have a soulmate, he thought to himself. This euphoria, this warmth and connection that he never had imagined in his wildest dreams.

“You’re lucky you’re a happy drunk,” Daryl had commented late in the night, the crickets chirping all around them.

“Yeah, I’m lucky.” Beth smiled. “Some people can be real jerks when they drink.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed, “I can be a real dick when I’m drunk.” He sat up, causing Beth to sit up straight. He leaned against the wooden fence of the porch, and Beth was quick to snuggle into his side. Neither of them seemed to want to let go of each other tonight, and Daryl was more than happy to wrap his arm around Beth closer. With her head rested on his shoulder, the man could feel her lose strains of hair tickling his cheek.

He told her a story about one of Merle’s old dealers. How they were all drunk before noon, and how they all got into fight over the dealer’s TV show. The dealer had pulled a gun on Daryl, but after a hit to the stomach, Daryl had puked, causing the three men to forget why they were fighting in the first place to laugh at the ordeal.

“You want to know what I was before all this?” Daryl asked, his eyes looking across into the woods. “I was just drifting around with Merle… doing whatever he said we were gonna be doin’ that day.

I was nobody. Nothin’. Some redneck asshole and an even bigger asshole for a brother.”

“You miss him, don’t you?” Beth said in turn. One of her hands was drawing lazy circles on his side. “I miss Maggie. I miss her bossing me around,” She laughed a bit “I miss my big brother Shawn. He was so annoying and overprotective… And my dad.

I thought—I hoped he’d just live the rest of his life in peace, you know? I thought… Maggie and Glenn would have a baby, and he’d be a grandpaw, and we’d have birthdays, and holidays and summer picnics. And he’d get really old. And it’d happen, but… It’d be quiet.” She shrugged. “It would be okay. He’d be surrounded by people he loved.” She laughed, shaking her head and rubbed her eyes. “That’s how unbelievably stupid I am,” her voice cracked, and she straightened herself up to grab a mason jar, taking a drink.

“That’s how it was supposed to be.” Daryl’s heart was breaking for his soulmate for the thousandth time in the past few days. It made him wonder, himself, where life would take the two of them. What she said, it wasn’t stupid. Maggie and Glenn were married, and they should’ve had the chance to start their own little family, bring in their own Lil’ Ass Kicker. They could’ve all had a long, normal life at the prison—at least as normal as it could get these days.

Beth sighed. “I wish I could just… Change.”

“You did,” Daryl declared. She had overcome so much in so little time. She wasn’t prepared for this type of life, when Daryl found himself all to easy to conform to the new world.

“Not like you, it’s like… You were made for things to be like this.”

“I’m just used to it, things being ugly,” He murmured while rubbing her side with his hand. Beth relaxed a bit under him after her confession. “Growing up in a place like this.”

“But you got away from it,” Beth told him.

“I didn’t,” Daryl said all too quickly. He was still the same redneck asshole he was before. Now, he thought, now his shitty experiences seemed to benefit the new world order rather than make him a good for nothing biker.

“You did.” This time Beth was the one to sit up, turning her face towards him. He looked over at her, her eyes big and glossy in the moonlight.

“Maybe you got to keep on reminding me sometimes.”

“No. You can’t depend on anybody for anything, right?” She was using his own words against him.

“I’ll be gone someday.”

“Stop.” Daryl’s heart stopped in his chest. He didn’t want to think of a world without Beth.

“I will.” She stated. She reached up, a hand cupping his cheek. Her thumb gently grazed his neck. “You’re gonna be the last man standing. You are.

“You’re gonna miss me so bad when I’m gone, Daryl Dixon.” Her eyes were glossy with tears now, a sad smile on her face.

“You ain’t a happy drunk at all,” Daryl muttered, looking down. He never wanted to think about losing her. He would do anything in his power to give her a good life. Even now, when everything had gone to more shit since the prison, he was vowing himself to give her anything she needed, because she deserved the very best. She deserved what was supposed to happy: she deserved a long happy life.

“Yeah, I’m happy. I’m just not blind.

You gotta stay who you are. Not who you were. Places like this… You have to put it away.”

Daryl wasn’t sure what she meant. “What if you can’t?”

“You have to. Or it kills you.” Daryl swallowed a lump in his throat

“We should go inside.” He was suddenly cold and fearful. But Beth was smiling, something exciting flaring in her eyes.

“We should burn it down.” Her smile grew bigger and she let out a laugh. Daryl stood up.

“We’re gonna need more booze.” Beth stood up a few moments later after watching him walk into the house.

The two of them started grabbing mason jars, splashing and splattering the moonshine over the house, soaking the disgusting place in alcohol. The smell was overwhelming, and when they were done smashing the booze around the place, they stood at the treeline.

Daryl pulled a matchbox out of his pocket. “You wanna?” He asked, handing it her way.

“Hell yeah,” giggling, igniting the small stick to light up a stashed away pile of money Daryl had stolen from the country club. Once it was light well enough, Daryl tossed it underhand into the house.

The house went up in flames, and they started walking away from the head, looking back for a few moments.

Beth held her arm up, her middle finger high in the air. He followed suit, finding some sort of piece over this. They put their arms down, and Daryl guided with a hand on her smaller back away from the fire blazed house. They both reached down, grabbing each other’s hands and trekked into the night.

 

* * *

 

 

They rested only a bit that night, walking hand in hand until Daryl suggested they set up shop to rest.

“I got first shift. Best for ya to get a bit of sleep, you’re gonna have a helluva hangover.” Daryl teased quietly.

“Daryl, I’ll be—“,

“Trust me on this, girl.” He insisted, and she rolled her eyes with a smile before sitting down against a tree.

Daryl took a seat next to her, crossbow at his side, he turned his head to look at Beth. Bits of moonlight snuck through the treetops, just enough for him to see the little smile on her face.

Beth looked right back at him, her smile growing into a grin. She leaned into his body, resting her head on his shoulder and placing a hand on his thigh. She let out a soft ‘mmm’ and closed her eyes. He was feeling it, too. Those simple touches never failed to jolt through his body, in his leg, on his shoulder. He shut his eyes for a moment, too, feeling wave after wave of his soulmate tracing little circles on his thigh. It was a rush that made his head spin.

“How’sa ‘bout in the mornin’… Teach ya how to use the bow properly.” Daryl offered. He felt like such a dick for the way he had acted earlier, embarrassed at his rash behavior.

“I would love that.” Beth said in soft, sleepy voice. “Be sure to wake me up so you can sleep, too.”

He just let out a little grunt in response. He was immersed in the closeness of her body. He could feel her own heartbeat slowing as she began to fall asleep against him.

When the sun came up several hours later is when he woke her up. He wanted to her get as much rest as she could, he didn’t care if he had to stay up. He had his fair share of days without sleep, he could handle one more.

“Beth,” Daryl murmured to the sleeping beauty. She had stayed at his side the whole time she slept. “The sun is comin’ up, we should get moving.” His voice was soft, a voice that only came out when he was speaking to her

Beth let out a small whine of protest, making Daryl smile, but she slowly blinked several times and looked around before focusing on Daryl’s face. The look in her eyes made his face warm. Beth was looking at him and he could see the emotion in those big blues. No one besides Beth had ever looked at him this way, in a way that genuinely made him feel loved.

Neither of them moved or spoke for a few moments, just staring at each other. Beth was the one to break the quiet, sitting up a bit more and letting out a little yawn before furrowing her brows.

“You didn’t wake me up for my shift,” She stated, confused.

“Jus’ wanted ya to get rest before our lesson this mornin’.”

Beth sighed with a small shake of her head. “Ya’know, you need sleep, too.”

“ ‘M fine.” He protested.

Beth rolled her eyes. “Next time, I am first shift. You need your sleep, too, Daryl Dixon.”

After gathering themselves, Daryl started first, ushering Beth to follow. “Gonna teach ya about trackin’ and how to hold the bow and see what we can do from there.”

 

* * *

 

After Daryl explained the basics of tracking, he finally had her with the cross bow. She was already able to determine what were walker tracks, and rabbit tracks. She missed some here and there, but Daryl was patient, giving her hints to look closer.

When it was time for her to hold the bow, she awkwardly held it up, ready for him to position it correctly. “Here,” Daryl started to show her how to hold it properly, moving her arms and adjusting for the best position. He explained the best he could on how to look through the sight, but Beth seemed to be a natural.

“This must get heavy after holdin’ it a while.” Beth commented. It was a much bigger bow than she should have had as a starter bow, but it was for the best at this point for her to get used to using lots of different weapons.

They walked, Daryl was close behind her, watching over her shoulder. She had found some tracks and followed, crossbow up in arms.

“Are we close?” She asked as they approached a bit of a meadow.

“Almost done,” Daryl told her. He was proud of the progress she had already made. He didn’t realize how fast of a learning she was.

“How do you know?”

“The signs are all there. Just gotta know how to read’m.”

“What are we tracking?” She asked, lowering the bow a bit.

“You tell me.” He knew she’d be able to figure it out herself. “You’re the one that wanted to learn.

“Well… Somethin’ came through here. The patterns all zig-zaggy. It’s a walker!” She said, turning to grin at him.

Daryl smirked. “Maybe it’s a drunk.”

“I’m getting’ pretty good at this!” Beth boasted. “Pretty soon I won’t need you at all.

“Yeah,” Daryl muttered, “Keep on trackin’.”

The meadow was in full view now, a walker feasting and snarling.

“It’s got a gun.” Beth told him, something he hadn’t noticed himself yet. He nodded as Beth held the bow up, slowly approaching the walker. Daryl stayed back, wanting her to get her first shot without him hovering.

Then, he felt it and heard it. His ankle suddenly felt like it was on fire as Beth fell to the ground. He panicked, running to her even through the pain in his foot. Beth fired a shot, shooting the walker in the face but not through the brain. Daryl was quick to put it down before going back to Beth.

It was a bear trap someone had set up, clamping right on her foot. He detached it as quickly as he could. She lifted her leg out of the trap, breathing heavily.

“Can you move it?” Daryl asked, cupping her ankle.

“Yeah.” She said, sounding in pain. His own foot was burning, but it wasn’t the pain she was feeling. “Let’s just keep movin’.”

“We’ll try an’ find a house or somethin’. See how bad it is.” Daryl decided. Quietly, he continued. “It’ll be okay. I’ve got you.”

He gently pulled her up, and she hissed when she put pressure on her left leg. “I’m good.” Beth quickly said. “I’m good. Let’s keep movin’.”

Daryl wrapped an arm around her waist. “Hold on ta’ me. Keep ya balanced.” She obliged quickly.

There wasn’t too much walking before she asked to stop for a moment. They were just outside the tree line of the forest, entering a cemetery

“You all right?”

“I just need to sit down.” She gingerly lifted her injured ankle up to relieve any pressure.

Daryl didn’t hesitate. He put his bow around his neck. “All right, hold up.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. He stepped in front of Beth and crouched a bit. “Hop on.”

“Are you serious?” Beth asked, surprised.

“Yeah. This is a serious piggyback, jump up.” She let out a small giggle before hopping onto his back. Daryl let out a little grunt when she was up. “You’re heavier than you look,” he teased. He scouted her up farther on his back to get a good grip to hold her.

At the other end of the cemetery, there was what they both assumed was a funeral home.

“Maybe there are people there?”

“Yeah… If there are, I’ll handle’m.” he promised her.

“There are still good people, Daryl.” Her response was almost immediate.

“I don’t think the good ones survive.” The man admitted.

Beth was staring at each headstone as they passed, suddenly letting go of Daryl to stop. He turned to look at what grabbed her attention.

‘BELOVED FATHER’ was printed on the stone. Daryl immediately thought of Daryl, he could feel Beth’s heart breaking. He turned, having noticed the yellow flowers in the graveyard, picking a few and leaving them on top of the headstone.

He wasn’t sure if he had grabbed her hand, or she grabbed his, but they intertwined their fingers and had a moment of silence. She leaned against him. They both took some time to regain their composure.

Once she was being piggy backed again, they approached the funeral home. Daryl gently let her down before opening the front door. He smacked the wall several times and let out a whistle, but no walkers seemed to be running down.

“It’s so clean,” Beth said in surprise. Most places were dusty, ransacked and ripped apart. This place was dust free and in prime condition.

“Yeah… Someone’s been tendin’ to it. May still be around,” he began moving deeper into the house, not finding any walkers. Oddly, he found walkers cleaned, dressed in tuxedos in caskets.

Beth followed behind, and they made there way down some stairs. It seemed to be where the mortician would prepare the bodies for the funeral.

On a metal slab table lied a walker, again, clean and finely dressed. Beth was looking over it while Daryl looked for medical supplies

“Let’s get that ankle wrapped, yeah?” He said after finding a cloth bandage that would do just fine. He tore the package open with his teeth, giving the walker a glance over. “Looks like somebody ran out of dolls to dress up.”

Immediately turning her head, Beth spoke, “It’s beautiful… Whoever did this… Cared. They wanted these people to have a funeral. They remembered these things… were people, before all this. They didn’t let it change them in the end… Don’t you think that’s beautiful?” She asked, gazing over at him. 

Daryl met her eyes, staring for a moment. He was conflicted with surprise that she could see any beauty in a dressed-up walker, but he knew already that Beth’s view of the world was hopeful. Positive, even today, even after watching Hershel…

He could see how she thought it was beautiful. It wasn’t the word he would use for it, he didn’t know what he’d call it, but he did see the good in someone wanting a proper burial. That was something that killed him, all the proper burials he couldn’t give to the people they had lost. So many people deserved the proper burial, like back at the prison when the illness took over. There were so many dead that they couldn’t mourn properly with a funeral.

“Come on.” Daryl said, ushering her towards the counter below the shelves. He helped prop her up and she lifted her leg. He gingerly removed Beth’s boot, feeling the heat in his newest soul mark as it was removed. She hissed a bit at the pain but said nothing.

As careful as he could be, he examined her ankle. It was sprained, at the very least. He wasn’t a doctor, though, it could be broken. After he wrapped her up, he slipped the boot back on the best he could without hurting her. She carefully scooted off the counter and back onto her feet.

“This is much better.” She admitted. “Thank you, Daryl.”

He flushed and gave a little grunt and nod. “Ready to check the rest of this place out?”

 

* * *

 

Upstairs, they went to the kitchen first. What was inside the cabinets took them both by surprise.

“Whoa,” Beth exclaimed, eyes wide as they look at the stocked shelves of food.

“Peanut butter and jelly, diet soda, and pig’s feet. That’s a white trash brunch, right there,” he was stunned.

“It all looks good to me.” Beth admitted, grabbing cans of food to examine. They were both willing to eat any real food at this point.

“No—hold up. Ain’t a speck of dust on this.” Daryl noticed, suddenly heistant.

“So?” The blonde asked, looking up at the man.

“That means somebody just put it here. This is someone’s stash. Maybe they’re still alive.

Alright, we’ll take some of it, and we’ll leave the rest, alright?”

“I knew it!” Beth grinned nudging Daryl’s side.

Daryl started to unscrew the lid off a jelly jar. “Knew what?”

“It’s like I said. There’s still good people.” She was staring into his eyes again, that look—god, that look in her eyes. They were bright, hopeful, filled with love.

Instead of responding, Daryl dug his fingers into the jelly and licked it off his fingers. God, he had missed grape jelly. He didn’t realize he had until he just at a scoop. With a small sound of satisfaction, he ate some more.

“Gross!” Beth said, turning with a smile. Next, Daryl licked it right out of the jar with a smirk.

“Hey, those pig’s feet are mine.” He declared.

“All yours, Daryl.”

 

* * *

 

 

After just nibbling on some of the lucky stash of food, Daryl began to barricade the outside of the house with their usual alarm system of cans. The sun was setting by the time he had reentered the home, hearing Beth’s voice softly singing accompanied by the piano in one of the parlors

He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Beth’s voice was… angelic to him. He was hypnotized. There were candles lit all around her, and something stirred deep inside him.

“And pine for summer… And then we’ll buy a beer to shotgun… We’ll lay in our lawn… And we’ll be good…”

Daryl didn’t know the song, but it didn’t matter. When Beth sang, his heart would flutter. He was overwhelmed. Speechless. This was his soulmate.

This was his soul mate, and he couldn’t open his mouth because he feared those three words that would slip out if dared to open it. When she paused for a moment, he managed to clear his throat.

Beth stopped, turning and looking at him with a smile. Across the room, there was an open casket that Daryl was making his way towards. He set his bow down on chair beside the door. “The place is nailed up tight. The only way in is through the front door.” Daryl had that soft voice, the voice only she could know.

Eyeing the open coffin, he noted immediately how comfortable the bedding inside it must be. Suddenly he felt the exhaustion of their journey from the prison and decided to climb inside the open casket as Beth’s eyes followed him.

“What are you doin’?” She said, giving him a puzzled look. Daryl glanced at her with a smirk as he adjusted himself to lay comfortably in the coffin.

“This is the comfiest bed I’ve had in years.”

“Really?”

“I ain’t kiddin’.” Once his head hit the pillow, he let out the most content sigh and looked over at her. “Why don’t you go ahead and play some more? Keep singin’.”

“I thought my singin’ annoyed you,” she countered. Daryl remembered throwing that in her face at the shack. He regretted it.

“There ain’t no jukebox, so…” He played it off, wanting to complement her and her singing, but he felt very vulnerable at that moment. Beth gave him a knowing smile and turned back to the keys. His face flushed once again. She knew what he was actually saying, that he loved her singing. Having learned over his time with Beth, the bond they had as soulmates made it easy for one another to understand things without speaking them allowed.

He wondered if Beth knew. Knew what he was dying to tell her. What he wanted to tell her back at the prison and never had the nerve to do. He didn’t want to keep that unspoken. He wanted to tell her, over and over and over and kept stopping himself each time.

And so, Beth kept singing. Daryl laid there, mesmerized.

After a while, Beth stopped, turning to Daryl with a sleepy look on her face. Daryl was feeling that, too. He wanted to sleep in this coffin.

“I’ll keep first watch.” Beth reiterated what she had said either. “Why don’t you sleep for a while?”

Daryl hesitated. “Thinkin’ since the front door is the only way in… along with the cans… We can both sleep tonight.”

Beth sat up straighter. “Are you sure?” Daryl nodded. Beth stood up. “Then I’m gonna look around to set up a bed.” Carefully, with an obvious favor on her uninjured foot, began to leave the room. She looked back for just a moment, catching his eyes and blushing a bit herself.

Daryl climbed out of the casket, removing the fluffy pillows and tossing them on the ground. He pushed the several wooden chairs that were lined up in rows up against the wall. Unsure of what else would be in this funeral home, he started to look for sheets, something, anything for the makeshift bed for Beth. But she had beat him to it.

Beth returned with throw pillows from one of the many love-seat couches in the home, a sheet, and a folded quilt in her arms.

“Where’d you find a blanket?” Daryl asked.

“It was a throw blanket over a couch in the other room. It’s thick, too, it’ll be a nice change for us to sleep on.” Beth told him as she began laying the quilt down on the floor, setting the few pillows at one end of the makeshift bed. She took a seat, unfolding the sheet and shaking it open.

Daryl swallowed. “Us?” He had assumed they would be sleeping next to each other tonight, but he needed her verbal confirmation that she was okay with it.

Looking up, the blonde tilted her head a bit. “I—I guess I figured we were gonna lay together. Unless you’d rather sleep in the coffin—,”

“No,” Daryl cut her off. Her blissful aura radiated through his system. “Better to stay close in case somethin’ happens,” his excuse was pitiful. He didn’t have the strength to simply say, ‘I want to sleep next to you tonight. Hold you close and protect you.’

“Of course.” Beth said, smiling. “Are you sure we shouldn’t take shifts?”

“Naw,” Daryl stood up and blew out the few candles around the room. The darkness took a moment for Daryl to adjust to, but he found himself laying beside his love very quickly.

Immediately, her body curled into his, wrapping her arm around her chest. He managed to smoothly slide his arm underneath her to hold her even closer. Neither of them spoke, just listened to each other’s breathing slow until each of them fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((( I'm sorry it's so canon right now, but these parts are ***so*** imp to Beth and Daryl development that I want to get all the feels that Daryl is having out there throughout it. )))


End file.
